Broken Wings
by SchadenFreude95
Summary: Morgan returns to America and finds that everything has changed - some things for the worse. Sequel to Feathers in the Night.
1. Two Years

Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice, nor the Batman family. Morgan Jørgensen and any character you do not recognize, however, is mine, and if you want to borrow them, please ask first.

I'd like to dedicate this story to my awesome internet friend Ushna. Thank you for sticking with me for the past five years, for reading and editing my stories, for offering your opinion on my work, for letting me read your work. For writing colaborate stories with me, even though they were just silly Jonas Brothers stories on youtube. Thank you for introducing me to Fanfictionnet, because without you, none of my stories would have sprung to life.

* * *

**Chapter One:****Two Years**

* * *

May 15th

The thug was running as fast as his pudgy body could carry him. Harsh puffs of ragged breath fell from his mouth as much from the unwanted exercise as the fear in his system. His breathing was also stumped by the joker mask he was wearing, so he yanked it off and threw it away as he turned a corner, letting the cheap plastic thing skit along the slick pavement. He ran across a puddle, the water soaking into the bottom of his worn jeans.

He was vaguely aware of a shadow slithering along the roof tops behind him, getting closer and closer with every second. The man had known this was a chase he couldn't possibly hope to win, but he'd tried anyway.

After all, a lot of much faster and tougher men had already attempted to outrun the Bat. None, so far, had succeeded.

People were talking. And by people, he meant the other criminals he hung out with. Rumor was that, for the past few months, the Bat had been different. Wilder. Batman had always been harsh and scary, but he usually refrained from sending most of his opponents to the hospital. Nobody knew for sure what had brought about the change, but apparently, the hero had gotten downright _ruthless._

And now the Bat was coming for _him._

The knowledge of his imminent failure didn't make the prospect seem less scary, so he kept running even though his lungs and throat were burning. Spotting an old, abandoned school building, he headed for it. The door was locked, but he shot the lock and barreled into the wood, satisfied when it gave way. He sprinted inside and up several flights of stairs.

Maybe if he hid.. Maybe if the Bat couldn't find him..

He found a classroom on the second floor and forced the door open. The room was empty, save for a few large lockers. Wiping sweat from his brow, he headed for the cupboards and pulled one open. He could just about fit inside, so he crammed his large body in the small space and closed the door behind him.

Maybe he would get out of this. Maybe the Bat wouldn't find him.

Batman didn't need to see the Joker croon to track him down. As he headed completely soundlessly down the halls of the dusty, old school building his prey had foolishly decided to hide in, he only had to listen for the sound of the man's uneasy breathing.

He opened the door to the classroom he was in, not caring that the door creaked obnoxiously. He could hear the guy draw a sharp breath from his closed locker.

* * *

This was almost too easy.

His face remained completely stony as he strode across the room and wrenched the locker open. He didn't hesitate for a second before grabbing hold of the lapels of the man's flannel shirt, yanking him out. A startled scream left the man lips as Batman, holding him so he was dangling a foot off the floor, backed them across the room and into a window. He slammed him hard enough against the glass to make it crack, the man's sparsely haired head slamming painfully against the glass.

The thug was sweating disgustingly, making the dark knight curl his lip in disgust at the odor.

"Where is the Joker?!" Batman growled.

"I-I don't know, man!" The guy responded, his breathing labored and eyes wide from his fear.

Batman scowled even harder and punched the window behind his captive, shattering it completely.

The croon flinched and practically sobbed. "Oh god." He whispered shakily.

Batman lifted the guy up again, this time on the outside of the window. "I won't ask again." He told the man dangling in free air.

"I-I swear I don't know! Nobody knows! We haven't seen him for _months._ You gotta believe me, man!"

Batman studied the man briefly. He could tell he was telling the truth, which actually just made him angrier. The guy didn't have the answers he wanted – which meant he was useless to him now.

If nobody had seen the joker for months.. Well, then Batman would have to track the clown down some other way.

Not thinking twice, he let the man slip from his grip, wrenching a terrified scream from him as he fell towards the pavement below.

The fall wouldn't kill him. True, it would probably break both of his legs, but at least that meant he wouldn't be doing anything illegal for some time.

Using his grapple gun, he landed next to the man, who was lying, gasping in pain on the pavement.

He paused to send the police the street number so they could take care of the injured man.

Then, with a flick of his cape, Dick left the scene.

* * *

June 2nd

Morgan smiled as she closed her eyes and stuck her nose in the air, drawing in a deep breath of the Gotham air. It felt so familiar and yet distant, like a long forgotten memory. She was in the airport still, and the place smelled of cleaning supplies and sweaty travelers, but simply knowing that the air was American was a comfort in itself.

The leather strap of her backpack dug into her shoulder almost painfully, so she shifted its weight slightly, deciding to use both straps instead of having it slung over one shoulder like she usually did. She took the time to sigh deeply and grab hold of her suitcase before she joined her fellow travelers in heading for the exit.

The steady throng of people was like a river, its current carrying her ever closer to home.

Despite the comfort and serenity the place brought her, Morgan felt anxiety clench at her insides. She could pretend for a small moment that she was simply returning after a short journey, that everything was going to get back to normal as soon as she stepped through the airport's doors. But then reality would have to kick in, and she would probably have to admit that nothing was as it had once been.

"Morgan!" She turned her head at the familiar voice, a smile instinctively finding its way onto her face when she spotted M'gann and Connor heading in her direction, hand in hand.

"Hey, you guys!" She gleefully greeted, immediately accepting the hug M'gann hadn't hesitated to engulf her in.

"Oh my gosh, it's been so long!" M'gann almost sounded like she was close to tears once she pulled back to allow her fiancé to hug Morgan as well.

Morgan let out a small laugh. "You sound like I've been gone for ten years." She commented squinting up at M'gann's temporarily human face, finding the sun blinding after spending so many hours on a plane with all the shutters down.

"Two years is enough, I think." Connor said in his deep voice, ruffling Morgan's hair in a decidedly brotherly move.

Morgan silently agreed with him. When she'd planned to travel to Denmark for two months, she hadn't expected those two months to grow into four months.. and then nine months.. and then a year. And then another year.

Looking upon her two friends, she couldn't help but think that they hadn't changed a tiny bit, expect perhaps for M'gann's now shoulder length hair, but she already knew the Martian and the Kryptonian didn't age like normal people, so it didn't really surprise her.

"You look so grown up!" M'gann said next, clutching Morgan's hands in hers, looking at her younger friend with shinning eyes.

Morgan felt a lopsided smile grow on her mouth. "I suppose two years can make a difference."

Connor grabbed her luggage and then M'gann's hand, and soon, the three of them were walking down the sidewalk towards the nearest Zeta tube.

"So.." Morgan wet her bottom lip and bit into it, finally asking the question that had been on her lips since she spotted her two friends. "How is he?"

She didn't need to elaborate on who 'he' was. By the way Connor's shoulders tensed, his face marred by a scowl, and M'gann's look grew worried, Morgan knew they knew exactly who she was talking about.

"He's.. not good. It's best that we talk once we're inside." M'gann vaguely answered.

Morgan felt herself bristle with annoyance. She'd just travelled halfway across the world because she'd been told the others needed her help with Dick for some reason, and now M'gann was making her wait even longer.

Her annoyance didn't last long. It stepped to the background, letting a much stronger emotion claim the limelight: Worry.

They reached the Zeta tube and Morgan paused in front of it, a sense of familiarity sweeping over her as she made to walk through it. She prepared herself for the two seconds of thoughtlessness and weightlessness.

"_Recognized: Sparrow, B23." _The bodiless female voice of the tube rung in her ears and Morgan felt so utterly strange to hear that name used again.

She shook her head and followed after M'gann and Connor, letting them lead the way through Happy Harbor towards their apartment.

Once reaching the apartment, M'gann fished out a pair of keys and unlocked the front door, stepping in first. Morgan followed after the Martian, Connor bringing up the rear with her luggage.

"Coffee?" M'gann shape shifted into her usual green skin and aimed the question at Morgan over her shoulder as she headed for the small kitchen.

"Please." Morgan responded, settling onto the couch when Connor told her to sit. He left her luggage by the door and snapped it shut before heading for the kitchen himself.

Five minutes later, the three of them were sitting around the small coffee table, drinking their coffee and tea in silence. It was anything but a relaxed silence, though. Morgan's left foot was tapping anxiously against the floor and her wings, no longer concealed by her necklace, kept fluttering, feeling restless and jittery.

It was amazing to see her two friends again, but also strange. She'd all but left her Sparrow life behind, and somehow, Morgan hadn't realized that just because she wasn't Sparrow currently, didn't eman they wouldn't still be her friends. That wasn't just it, though. It was just.. after two years, suddenly finding herself back in America, sitting with two of her friends, was odd.

"So.." She leaned forward in her seat and pursed her lips, eyeing her two friends firmly. "We're alone now. Spill."

M'gann bit down on her bottom lip and looked at her fiancé, maybe silently asking him to break the news – whatever the news were – to their guest.

Connor cleared his throat and looked at her with serious eyes. "Batman's dead." He simply announced. "It happen six months ago."

Morgan drew back in shock and frowned at him. "That can't be right." She immediately protested. "I saw him on the news last week! He was taking down some drug –"

She paused and felt herself gaping at her two friends, their serious expressions and raised eyebrows proving they were simply waiting for her to catch on.

"That.. that was Dick.." She realized, whispering the words in shock.

M'gann nodded worriedly. "He's been Batman for five months now and.. he's.. He's not doing well."

Connor easily took over, speaking with more focus than M'gann. "He's been obsessed with finding Batman's killers and bringing them down. Spends all his time brooding in the Batcave or at Wayne Manor. The League hasn't seen him for two monts now. He can't keep at the pace he's currently going, but he refuses to see this."

"Both Robin and Batgirl has tried to talk to him. We all have. But he's.. unwilling to listen to anything we have to say." M'gann went on. "Back in the day, Wally could always get through to him, but now that he's gone.."

Morgan felt her eyebrows travel towards her hairline. "And you think _I_ can persuade him?"

Both Connor and M'gann looked at her like that was exactly what they were thinking.

"You two always had a special bond.." M'gann said in that soft voice of hers. "Your relationship with him was different than ours."

Morgan blinked at them for a second before speaking in a deadpan. "And by special bond you mean we argued a lot and then occasionally had a few hot make out sessions." She reminded them.

"Morgan, you're our last card." Connor told her seriously. "We don't know what else to do."

She wanted to help Dick – she really did. But she had to be realistic here. She hadn't talked to the guy for more than a year. After ten months of separation, they'd sort of stopped talking. It had been a gradual downwards curve. He'd been too busy with League stuff and she'd been busy trying to make a life for herself in a foreign country. And slowly, their skype chats had become less and less of a priority for both of them. Whatever connection the two of them had had back in the day.. Well, she wasn't sure it was still there.

Part of her was also angry with them. She'd uprooted her life for the second time in just as many years, and now it would most likely be for nothing.

Morgan opened her mouth, intending to tell her two friends this, but upon seeing their hopeful and sad faces, entirely different words left her.

"I'll do my best." She promised, already knowing this was a bad idea, but still fully intending to do everything she could. "He might be far out, but we all know I'm more stubborn than he is."

* * *

Sticking to my usual fashion, the prologue is pretty short.

It's finally here, guys! Yay!

Just to be very clear: I am not at all as far in the story, lenghtwise, as I was with Feathers when I posted the first chapter of that story. Also, I'm finding the sequel harder to write as well. SO, I'm going to be updating this story much slower than Feathers. Please don't let that stop you from reviewing, though! I'm still a bit unsure of this story, since I've enver written a sequel before, so its continued survival rests entirely in your hands.

This story will be darker, more adult, than its predecessor. Which also means that I'll be showing some darker sides of our main characters, particularly Dick. I'm experimenting, I guess. Digging up his demons and playing around with them a bit.

Fact of the day: I ship Supermartian a LOT. I'm sure you could tell.


	2. Capes and Masks

**Chapter Two: Capes and Masks**

* * *

Once the two of them had seen her to the Zeta tube, they waved their goodbyes and promised to call her in the morning. She nodded and smiled before slipping through the tube, ending up in Gotham two seconds later.

To be honest, the first person she'd wanted to see upon her return had been her mom, but since she was staying at her place, she knew she'd see her anyway and had managed to suppress the urge. Now, she walked slowly through the busy streets of her childhood city, heading for her mother's apartment at her own, relaxed pace.

She wanted the time to think on the situation she'd landed herself in. Her former mentor needed rescuing. Unfortunately, there was no outside source attacking him which she could simply deal with and then he'd be fine.

No, Dick Grayson had to be saved from himself. And that was much more difficult.

It was such a strange truth that Morgan hadn't fully realized it yet. Out of everyone on the Team, she'd always known Nightwing – Batman now – to be the one with the most control over his emotions. He used logic and brains and rarely lost emotional control.

And it was hard to believe now that he had become a victim of his own emotions – his own grief.

She reached her mom's apartment and promptly knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the older woman opened the door, her face taken over by a wide smile.

Abigail let out a laugh as her smile became teary, pulling her daughter into a hug immediately. Morgan hugged her back fiercely. It was a strange sensation to be back in her mom's arms after two years of separation.

"Mom!" Was all she could think to say.

Abigail sniffled out a laugh and pulled back. "My beautiful daughter." She sighed, brushing a few of Morgan's curls behind her ear. "It's been so long.."

They hugged again, Morgan's response muffled as her face was pressed into her mom's shoulder. "I know. I'm sorry."

Abigail pulled back again and ushered her inside. "Don't be! You've been out travelling, discovering yourself. Come, tell me all about Denmark!"

The two of them let Morgan's luggage be in the hall, shuffling into the small kitchen. Morgan was momentarily overcome with the sense of familiarity and homeliness as she took in the kitchen she'd spent a large portion of her childhood in.

The only thing missing was..

She pushed the thought of her recently dead cat out of her mind as well as the regret that she'd hadn't been there when he died. Percy had been an old cat, she reminded herself. She'd known even before she left that he had only had a year or two left. She just hadn't imagined that she'd be in Denmark still when the cat finally gave in to old age.

It seemed she'd missed out on a lot of things while away. She found that that statement rang truer and truer with every second she spent back in America.

She pushed herself back to the present and walked fully into the kitchen, sitting down across from her mom.

"Where should I _begin?"_ She sighed, wondering how she could both miss the Nordic country and yet be thrilled to be back in America. Maybe it was because she knew it'd been easy to pretend that nothing was wrong when she'd been on the other side of the planet. It was easier to pretend that all of her friends were doing really well without her.

It was easy to avoid the fact that her mentor wasn't doing well.

She'd had no one but herself to take care of in Denmark. Now, she found that she'd actually had several people she should've been taking care of, but had been too far away from to notice.

"Literally _everyone_ has a bike over there. And you're a weirdo if you don't use it frequently." She decided to approach the innocent and safe details first. "And people are really nice, if not a bit introverted. It's weird to talk with strangers on the streets, unless it's to ask for directions, even if you're just trying to be friendly. Oh, and the nature is beautiful but kinda boring. There are, like, zero mountains and stuff."

Abigail looked kind of funnily at her like this wasn't what she'd expected her daughter to start talking about first.

Morgan knew what she'd really wanted to know, so with a sigh, the younger girl started talking about her grandparents. "_Farmor _and _Farfar_ were really nice. Kind of old and slightly crazy – I suppose I should use the word 'charismatic' – but really affectionate. They took me in immediately." Morgan barked out a small, fond laugh. "I gained, like, seven pounds the first month alone because _Farmor_ kept stuffing my face. Her cooking is _amazing._"

Abigail's smile twisted funnily, and Morgan got the feeling she still wasn't entirely over the death of her ex-husband. It was worse because it had been so violent. She looked torn between being happy that her daughter's grandparents had been so welcoming, and sad by the reminder of Henrik.

Morgan immediately steered the conversation elsewhere. "But enough about them. Tell me what you've been up to! What's happened in Gotham since my disappearance?"

Her mom sigh in relief at the change of topic and contemplated Morgan's question for a second. "Well, I'm the same as always, I suppose." She shrugged. "And you know Gotham. The place is too stubborn to change much."

Morgan nodded, a small smile that was torn between happy and sad playing on her lips. She was fond of her city and its stubbornness, but she was sad that that stubbornness unfortunately also extended to the criminals too. She supposed she had to thank Batman for having tamed the crime enough for the city to at least avoid destroying itself.

It felt like a punch to her chest when Morgan suddenly realized that Batman was _dead._ She already knew – after all, Connor had told her only a few hours ago – but she'd been so focused on playing her part in helping Dick that she hadn't actually offered the dead superhero much thought.

He was the Leaguer that had approached her first. He and Nightwing had been the ones to offer her a spot on the Team. And now the man was dead. One of the greatest heroes of all time – _dead._

Morgan knew Superheroes were not invulnerable or immortal. But a small part of her had never thought it was possible to actually kill the Bat. He had seemed too.. _clever_ for that.

"I suppose the only big news we've had for the past months was the death of Bruce Wayne half a year ago." Her mom sighed. "Poor guy. He's done a lot for the city through his charity."

Morgan had to keep her jaw from dropping when the puzzle pieces slipped into place.

She'd already heard about Wayne's death – he'd been big enough of a figure for his death to travel even to Denmark. In fact, she'd tried to contact Nightwing to hear how he was doing as soon as she heard the news. It was his lack of response that had first made her suspect something was up with her former mentor.

Back then, she hadn't known that Batman had died that same month as well. But now, she realized it was _too much_ of a coincidence for them to _not_ be one and the same. It also explained how Dick had become Robin, too.

Bruce Wayne had been Batman.

Suddenly, Dick's obsession with finding his killers made much more sense. He'd not just lost his friend, team mate and former mentor. He'd lost his dad too. His guardian. Lost a parent _again._

Some of her shock must've been visible on her face because Abigail had paused in her speech and was looking at her doubtfully. "Morgan?" She asked. "You alright?"

Morgan immediately blinked twice and let out a deep sigh, trying to fake exhaustion. "Yeah. Just tired, is all. I've been traveling since yesterday morning."

Abigail nodded, her face overcome with that soft, _mom_ look. "I've made your bed already. You should go sleep."

Morgan offered her mom a small, thankful smile before slipping out of her seat, slumping to keep up her tired façade.

She'd been back for half an hour and Morgan was already lying to her mom.

Shuffling to her old room, she felt a sting in her chest upon seeing how much it had changed. True, she'd told her mom that it was totally fine that she turned the room into a guestroom now that Morgan was moving out. She just hadn't been prepared to face the reality of it all when she saw the room again.

Back when Morgan had joined the Team, she hadn't 'moved out' as much as she'd literally fled her old home because her mom had seen her wings. She hadn't gotten to try packing down her room and search for her own apartment. She hadn't experienced that rush of excitement and nerves that came with moving out on your own for the first time. She'd been thrown into it in a single evening, totally unprepared, both physically and emotionally.

And now she was actually moving back in – temporarily, she told herself – and it was forcing her to face the fact that Morgan hadn't really 'moved out'.

Morgan growled at her own melancholic and unnecessary musings. Like any of that stuff _mattered_. So, she hadn't moved out in the traditional way – so what?

She flopped down on her bed after taking off her charmed necklace – the blue one Dick had given her when she turned nineteen – feeling the pressure of her wings digging into the mattress beneath her.

She let the blue gemstone dangle from its silver chain in front of her face, the fingers of her right hand running over its smooth surface. Blinking back flashbacks and memories of the day he'd given it to her, Morgan left it on her nightstand and stared up at the ceiling.

She wasn't really tired – she'd slept on the plane – but she needed a few hours with nothing but her thoughts.

Connor had told her Tim would meet up with her tomorrow and discuss a 'game plan'. Apparently, this whole 'let Morgan deal with Dick' scheme had been his idea. He seemed to have a lot of faith in her ability to get through to their stubborn friend. She supposed he knew Nightwing better than the rest of them and thus knew the kind of effect Morgan had had on Dick once upon a time.

She found herself doubting whether she'd still have the sway over him as she'd had back then. True, they'd been in _some_ kind of relationship, and Morgan had certainly found that she could persuade him when she really wanted to.

But they'd been teenagers. Crazy, hormonal teenagers.

They weren't anymore.

She sat up in bed and started pulling off her clothes, figuring she might as well try for a bit of sleep now that she'd said she was going to. Then, she crawled under her covers in nothing but her underwear – she'd left her luggage in the hall – trying to somehow get comfortable.

It was no use. Her body was filled with a jittery sort of energy that made trying to lie still almost _annoying._

Sighing harshly, she sat up in bed again and looked around the room. All of her old stuff – her stereo and colorful bookcase, her desk and her swivel chair, all of her trinkets and knickknacks, and most of her pictures – had been moved from the room and into the small attic that came with the apartment. It would remain there until Morgan moved into her own place. The room was now mostly bare, except for the bed, nightstand, her closet and a dresser with a mirror. A few paintings had been allowed to stay here and there. It was the exact kind of simple furnishing you'd expect to find in a guest room.

It had little to nothing in common with how the room had looked back when it had been Morgan's.

Growing bored and even more restless by looking around the room, Morgan got up off the bed and paced in a small circle. She cringed when her steps made the floorboards creak beneath her, and she stopped immediately again, worried the sound would alert her mom to her movements.

She switched on the small light on the nightstand and sat cross-legged on her bed, deciding to practice a bit of her telekinesis now that she had time to kill. That usually drained her mentally, if she kept at it for long enough. Maybe she'd be able to go to sleep afterwards. Spotting a small wastebasket next to the dresser, she focused on a crumbled piece of paper in it. With a gentle movement of her left hand, the paper floated into the air and towards her, hovering in front of her face.

A small smile crawled onto her face at the obvious evidence of all her training.

Back when she'd been on the Team.. Well, Morgan had been angry and emotional and confused most of the time. And, as she'd discovered once she moved to Denmark and found herself in a more peaceful environment, all of these rampant emotions had greatly stumped the true potential of her powers. Back then, her telekinesis had been unreliable and violent. Now, it was almost as natural as breathing. As she'd gotten older and had passed that teen age, she'd found her powers drastically evolving. They weren't simply good for throwing stuff around anymore. As soon as she got older and more emotionally stable, so did her powers.

She made the paper twirl in the air for a short moment before gently letting it float back into the trash.

Morgan was tempted to try something a little bigger next, like the dresser for example, but the risk of alerting her mom was too big.

She was almost twenty one years old and somehow still felt like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar.

Morgan decided to try something a bit trickier instead. She attempted to levitate herself. Totally useless power for someone who had _wings_, she knew, but it was a tricky thing to get right so it was a good challenge.

After several minutes of concentrating, she felt her butt leave the covers beneath her. Grinning triumphantly, she tried to move herself forward. She lost her concentration when a police car drove by her window, its sirens echoing through the streets.

Morgan let out a small yelp when she crashed back onto the bed, the springs in the mattress creaking under her weight. She held her breath and listened intently, trying to hear if her mom was moving.

Morgan tiptoed to the door and after a short moment in which all she could hear was her own heart, she slowly opened it and peaked into the hallway. The apartment was dark and silent. Vaguely, she could hear her mom's quiet snores from her own bedroom and felt relieved when Abigail was obviously still asleep.

She let her door stay open as she darted to her window next, opening it fully and leaning over the sill to try and spot the police car. It must've turned a corner because it was gone, though she could still hear the sirens, and Morgan thought she could see flashing blue lights a block or so over.

Unconsciously, her eyes darted towards her luggage, a silent, black lump in the already dark hall.

_No._ She firmly told herself, biting down on her bottom lip.

She snapped the window shut quietly again. _Absolutely not. _

Turning from the window, she made to head for her bed. Instead, at the last moment, she turned on her heel and stalked silently into the hall, using her telekinesis to levitate her suitcase and backpack off the rug without making a sound.

_Don't you dare! _She shouted at herself as she moved the bags into her room.

There, she unzipped her suitcase and pulled all of her clothes out, letting them clutter up on her bed. Her fingers ran along the sides of the suitcase before they hooked onto two small hoops on either side. Pulling, the fake bottom of the suitcase slipped off.

_Morgan, listen to me, this is a BAD idea!_ The logical part of her brain shrilly shouted, but she hardly noticed it as her fingers brushed against the small domino mask lying on top of black and dark blue fabric. She picked it up and closed her eyes as she slipped it on. Gathering her hair, she hastily braided it and used one of the hair bands she had around her wrist to secure the end.

Taking in a deep breath, the girl closed a fist around the large, grey, winged symbol woven into the fabric below, and pulled it out of her suitcase.

Nightwing might've upgraded his costume to one with a cape when he became Batman – but so had she.

When Morgan had travelled to Denmark, she'd fully intended to come back two months later. And she hadn't planned on doing any Sparrow business while she was there, so she hadn't brought her suit with her.

But once it was clear that she'd be staying for more than two months, and she'd started to feel that familiar want to _do_ something in the world, Morgan had gotten a new costume. Well – _made_ a new costume.

She pulled the tight, blue suit out of her suitcase fully, the dark fabric of the cape that was attached to it following.

Still very aware that this was a horrible idea, she started pulling on the suit, zipping it up so it showed off a far amount of cleavage. She'd found that this was a pretty smart way to distract thugs when she beat them up. Men like that were predictable. Next, she pulled on her black, fingerless gloves and slipped her utility belt around her waist, satisfied when it clicked into place low on her hips.

Morgan shrugged her boots on and adjusted the cape on her back to be sure it wasn't in the way of her wings, and walked quietly towards her window once more. She'd made sure the cape had a very low back, hanging off of her shoulders in a dip that was low enough to allow her wings space and unhindered movement. It made the cape look like something from roman times instead of the straight, square capes superheroes usually went for. A hood was attached to the top of the cape, and she pulled it over her head, tugging her braid into it.

She slipped the window open and took a deep breath before launching herself out of it, spreading her wings and taking to the air immediately.

_This is such a royally bad idea._

She ignored the worry nibbling at her thoughts. Look, she _knew_ that it was pretty likely that she'd accidentally run into Batman if she decided to parade around at night like this, especially when she was heading in the direction of the police car with the flashing lights and sirens, but she couldn't help herself.

She'd missed this.

True, she'd done some Sparrow jobs from time to time in Denmark, but compared to Gotham, the place was kind of boring, crime wise. Nothing much happened. She was rarely needed.

But now.. Now she could finally go back to helping out. Making the world a better place.

It was a strangely liberating feeling to once again soar between the tall buildings of Gotham. She recalled all the times she and Nightwing had gone on patrol in the dark city and felt a small smile on her lips. The smile turned into a frown when she remembered the situation her former mentor was currently in, and she shook her head to clear it. It was annoying how much she kept thinking about it. She hadn't done that in Denmark, but now that she was back, it was like everything reminded her of him.

She just hoped she didn't meet him tonight.

Apparently, nobody had actually told Dick that she was coming back. Maybe Tim hoped that the surprise of her suddenly dropping by would make the man more receptive to what she had to say. Morgan hoped the younger boy was right.

So she knew she'd have to do her best to avoid being seen by him, if she wanted the 'shock' factor to stay intact.

As it were, she kind of hoped _she'd_ spot _him_, though. She was worried about him, but she was also.. curious. She wanted to know what Batman looked like now. She wanted to know what _he_ looked like as Batman. She wanted to prepare herself for what was to come.

She followed the sound of the police sirens and found herself in the slummy part of Gotham, close to the harbor – of course, where else?

She landed on a rooftop a block over from where she could see all the flashing police lights coming from, deciding to close the remaining distance on foot. She'd be kind of obvious if she came flying over the site.

Running across the roof, she kept looking all around her, praying she wouldn't run into Batman.

Reaching the end of the platform, she launched herself over it and glided across the distance to the house on the other side of the road, grabbing hold of the railing of the fire escape. Hoisting herself up, she darted up the steel stairs and pulled herself onto the roof of the new building. Running along it, she paused at the end and looked down at the scene below her.

A large van had barreled into a launderette, half of the vehicle having gone through the smashed window. Three police cars here parked around the truck, four of the police officers in the middle of pulling the unconscious drivers out of the van.

The back of the van had been opened, and Morgan recognized the contents for what they were – drugs.

She didn't focus on the van or the police officers for long, however, because another man on the site drew her attention completely.

Batman – Dick – was speaking to an older man whom Morgan recognized as Commissioner Gordon, and Morgan felt her heart speed up. So she _would_ get the chance to see him tonight.

She was torn between staying where she was to avoid getting seen. and her need to get closer so she could get a better look at him. Eventually, her curiosity won out and she leaned a tiny bit further over the edge to spot something she could crawl onto, like a fire escape.

To her delight, she found that the building she was currently on was one of Gotham's older ones, meaning it was adorned with several large and ugly gargoyles. Their gross bodies protruded from the side of the building some ten feet below her and she wondered if she could make the jump without drawing attention to herself.

_Well, only one way to find out, _She recklessly decided as she chose a gargoyle that was almost completely bathed in shadow and positioned herself directly above it. Letting her legs dangle over the side of the building, she only waited a split second before pushing herself off of the edge, landing nimbly on the back of the gargoyle a second later.

Below, as if he'd seen the movement or heard the flutter of her cape, Batman's head snapped towards her and he stopped moving completely for several long seconds.

Morgan crouched down as low as she could behind the gargoyle's head, hoping neither her wings nor cape were visible. She felt her heart speed up again, with nerves or adrenalin she couldn't be sure, as she waited for him to start talking to the commissioner again.

"Batman?" She heard Gordon say, watching with relief when Batman seemed to drop his suspicion for now and turned his attention back onto the man he'd been talking to.

Morgan studied his face – what she could see of it from beneath the cowl – and found that he'd certainly changed more than she had over the past two years. Scruff that looked more than a couple of days old darkened his jaw line. She swore he'd gotten taller and broader too. Maybe that was just because of his new suit.

She didn't stay around for long. Morgan knew Dick – knew Batman. He might've been paying attention to the commissioner right now, but he _hadn't_ forgotten the shadow he'd probably seen on top of the roof, and he was going to investigate as soon as he was finished with the police.

Waiting until he turned his back to her, Morgan used her telekinesis to levitate herself back onto the roof, worrying that her wings would be noisy enough to alert him again.

She ran across the roof and jumped off the edge, taking to the sky immediately. Flying home as fast as she could, she was in her room, out of her Sparrow suit, and under her covers barely five minutes later.

This time, despite all the thoughts and emotions coiling around inside her, Morgan found it much easier to fall asleep.

* * *

Batman will be featured in the _next_ chapter. (lol)

We got to see him briefly from Morgan's POV in this one, but there'll be lots of Dick POV next week!

WOW! I am _amazed_ at the reaction the last chapter got! Just the sheer amount of reviews and follows/favourites boggles my mind! You guys are literally the sweetest and most loyal readers on the planet! I love you so much!

Also, anyone interested in seeing how I imagine Morgan's new costume design? If enough people want to see it, I'll post a pic on the tumblr page.

Fun fact: I wrote all of this chapter and the next one in one day. 11.000 words in ten hours, which has to be my own personal record. I just couldn't stop!


	3. The Amazing Batman

**Chapter Three: The Amazing Batman**

* * *

"Going out, sir?" Alfred's prim voice echoed throughout the Batcave, and Dick turned his seat in front of the Batcomputer to face the old butler. Alfred was approaching him from the staircase, so Dick turned back around and waited for the older man to reach him before answering. His eyes swept across the screen in front of him.

"Drug bust." He simply answered. "Falcone's."

Normally, Dick would've elaborated. Especially because this was Alfred and he usually wouldn't have wanted to seem rude. Once, Dick had been the talkative one in the bat-family.

He scratched the five-days-old stubble on his cheek, and the movement drew Alfred's attention.

"Growing it out?" The butler asked in that sassy English tone he only used when he was displeased with something Batman had done – or was doing. Alfred put a plate with a sandwich and a glass of water next to him, probably because he knew Dick had skipped dinner tonight – he'd been too busy with his research.

Dick grunted and vaguely contemplated actually just growing his facial hair out so he didn't have to worry about shaving all the time. "Maybe."

It hit him that people probably wouldn't find Batman particularly intimidating with a beard.

"I haven't had the time to shave." He changed his answer.

"Well, do remember the Wayne Foundation charity dinner tomorrow night. You're expected to show up, so I suggest you _find the time_ to shave before then."

Dick hummed out a distracted confirmation, and Alfred sighed like he already knew this was as close to a 'yes' as he was going to get out of the young man.

And just because Dick did feel a bit guilty for being so difficult – though he wasn't being difficult on purpose, he was just trying to live up to his legacy and make Bruce proud, as well as avenge his death – he grabbed the sandwich Alfred had made and took a large bite, realizing only then how hungry he actually was. He stood up and walked to the table is utility belt rested upon, going through every pocket to make sure he had everything he needed. It took him less than a minute to finish off the sandwich and he quickly drained the big glass of water as well.

Alfred didn't speak, only watched him with keen eyes that spoke just as much as his silence did.

"Shall I call for Master Damian?" Alfred asked as Dick pulled his cowl in place, signaling that he was heading off soon.

Slipping the utility belt around his waist and locking it in place, he shook his head. "I'm giving him the night off. With patrols and operating with the Team, he's been working too hard. He deserves a small break."

"With all due respect, Master Dick.. So do you." Said Alfred.

Batman didn't respond, simply shaking his head. "Tell Damian to get some sleep. I'll be fine by my own tonight."

"He won't be pleased." The older man pointed out.

"He's never pleased." Batman responded before slipping inside the Batmobile. "Don't wait up for me."

The doors automatically shut and the vehicle sped out of the Batcave and down the road, Gotham growing closer by the second.

* * *

Stopping Falcone's men weren't difficult. They were all cut from roughly the same cloth – big, but dumb. Unfortunately, they were also armed to their teeth and _very_ trigger happy.

Lucky for him, the Batmobile was bulletproof.

He'd chased them for less than ten minutes through Gotham, the little, hardly exciting car chase coming to an abrupt halt when the van had crashed into a Laundromat. After making sure the two idiots driving weren't dead but also weren't going to wake up any time soon, he contacted the police.

Commissioner Gordon himself decided to show up, and Batman warned him that these were Falcone's men. Due to Falcone's tight grip on a large portion of the legal system, dealing with his thugs usually proved more difficult. Their sentences were rarely as harsh as was called for, if they weren't 'accidentally' let out before they even had the chance to stand trial.

He halted in his speech when movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Batman turned, his narrowed eyes scanning the building on the other side of the street. It was old and ornate, having once been a pretty successful hotel before the neighborhood had turned sour. Large, ugly gargoyles peered down at him with eyes of stone, and most of the building's front was covered in shadows because of the malfunctioning streetlamps.

But he still could've sworn he'd seen movement a second ago. A dark shadow. A flash of something large and grey.

When nothing happened after several moments, he pulled his attention back to Commissioner Gordon, who was calling his name uncertainly.

"Just make sure they stay locked up this time." He gruffly ordered, wishing his voice didn't sound so young compared to what Bruce's had been like. After Dick had taken up the mantle, it hadn't taken the commissioner more than five minutes to realize that this Batman wasn't the same as the old Batman. Gordon had explained that Dick bore himself differently, seemed lighter on his feet. Of course, his youthful voice and less angular jaw raised suspicions as well. And because Dick kenw that Bruce had trusted Gordon more than anyone else at the police department, more than half of the Justice League, in fact, Dick confied in him. He admitted that Batman had died and that he, Nightwing, had donned the cape and cowl in his absense.

Unfortunately, now he couldn't help but feel like the commissioner took Batman less seriously. Treated him as more of a kid than a man. It was subtle, but even things as simple as Gordon referring to him a 'son' whenever they talked in private, sent a flash of annoyance through Dick. He wasn't a teenager anymore. He was a grown man, and he desered to be treated as such.

He stayed only long enough to be sure the two thugs and their load of drugs were taken care of. Then he turned his eyes towards the building opposite him again.

Climbing into the Batmobile, he only moved it to the other side of the building, using his grapple gun from there to pull himself onto the roof.

If anyone had looked upon the roof at that moment, all they would've seen was a dark shadow gliding across, stopping at the front façade of the building. He paused and counted the gargoyles, pinpointing the exact one he thought he'd seen movement by.

He slipped off the roof and landed on the gargoyle without a sound, pulling his holographic computer forth to scan the surface.

Scratches on the middle of the back spoke of boots recently scraping against the surface and Batman traced his fingers along them, waiting for the analysis to finish. If he was lucky, the scratches would be able to tell him how large the feet had been and how much the person had weighed, which would be a great help in cluing him in on what he was dealing with. If this person turned out to be a reoccurring figure, that is.

He got the result half a minute afterwards, and wondered if perhaps Damian had decided to join him on patrol – from a distance – despite his orders. The analysis informed him that the person had been neither big nor heavy and he instantly found himself suspecting the troublesome boy.

His eye glided across the gargoyle one last time, trying to spy anymore clues. He paused when a small, grey feather, stuck right behind the ear or the large stone gargoyle, caught his gaze.

He gingerly picked it up despite not truly thinking it meant anything. Birds rested on these sorts of protruding adornments all the time.

Letting the feather fall from his grasp, he stood up and used his grapple gun once again to reach the top of the roof.

He tried to keep the memories that feather had brought up at an arm's length. Honestly, it was pathetic that he couldn't even see a _grey feather_ without instantly thinking of _her_.

The decision to let Morgan go from his life had been one he'd made willingly, and thinking about her wasn't going to do either of them any good. Not that it mattered. She was in Denmark, apparently content to be so, and he was in Gotham.

Batman took a deep breath and expelled her from his mind as he climbed back into his vehicle. He'd stopped Falcone's men, but other crimes were also currently taking place in Gotham. He might as well deal with them now that he was here.

His head throbbed tiredly, but Dick ignored it. There were more important things to worry about than sleep. Bruce had trusted him to take care of his city once he was gone. And Dick wasn't going to betray that trust. An added bonus of going on patrol was also the possibility of digging up leads and clues that would lead him in the direction of Batman's killers.

_I'm going to avenge you, Bruce. _

He gripped the steering wheel tighter and prepared himself for another long night.

* * *

June 3rd

Morgan played with the zipper of her leather jacket, contemplating taking it off and wrapping it around her waist because it really was too hot out to be wearing it.

She was waiting outside Gotham's biggest library, leaning against a tilting street lamp that kept flickering on and off despite it being in the middle of the day. Tim had asked her to meet him there because he'd had some school project he wanted to finish first.

On a _Sunday._

_What a nerd. _

She was just about to shrug her jacket off when a familiar voice reached her ears.

"_Hey_, _Morgan_!"

She turned on the spot and found Tim with her eyes, smiling at the sight of him. He was trying to balance a huge back pack and three books that looked more like actual _tomes_, and looked like he was enlisting all of his Red Robin training to keep track of them all as he jogged towards her.

Letting out a small laugh, she forgot all about her jacket and met him halfway, catching the biggest book when it inevitably slipped from his grasp.

This was actually time the first she saw him without his mask or sunglasses, but since he was no longer under Batman's mentorship – he'd become Red Robin a few months ago, according to M'gann – he got to make the calls himself. Besides, she'd known for years what his real name was, so she could simply google him if she wanted to. Which she actually _had_.

"Tim!" She greeted, taking a step back to study him fully. "Oh my god, look at you! You've gotten so tall!"

He was probably a few inches short of being the height Dick had been when Morgan had first met him. She knew Tim was only sixteen years old, but he looked much older with his height, muscle mass and handsome face. And despite knowing they were not related by blood, Morgan couldn't help but think that Tim and Dick looked a lot alike. Black hair, smooth skin, blue eyes and handsome features. Those batboys – bad boys? – could surely be some serious lady killers if they cared to be.

He smirked at her. "You're just as short as I remember you."

Morgan smacked his arm with the large book she had in her grasp.

"Don't be rude." She sternly told him. "I'm still the oldest."

His eyes – she noticed they were a lighter color than Dick's, more of a sky blue than an oceanic blue – shone with laughter for a short moment.

Then, as if both of them suddenly remembered why Morgan was even here, they seemed to deflate.

"So, I guess we should find some place to talk, huh?" She broke the silence first, clutching the tome to her chest. He nodded and motioned for the sidewalk.

They walked in silence for a while. Morgan assumed he knew where they were going – it would be very unlike Tim _and_ Robin to not have some sort of destination or plan in mind – so she let him lead the way.

"You hungry?" He asked after roughly five minutes of walking.

She shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

Breakfast had been at least three hours ago and Morgan _did_ feel hunger start to slowly creep into her stomach again.

"C'mon, I'll buy you lunch." He steered them down a side street.

"You don't have to," She immediately responded, "I've got money."

"Don't worry about it. Inheritor of dead billionaire, remember?" He said it with a strange tone, like he was trying to sound like the statement didn't bother him but didn't quite succeed in hiding his grief.

Morgan remembered that Dick hadn't been Bruce Wayne's only adopted son. She paused in her walking for a beat and then hurried up to catch up to Tim's much larger strides.

"Oh right.." She relented. She tried to sound all soothing and supportive. "How are you dealing?"

Tim pressed his lips together and watched his sneaker-clad feet as they moved in front of him. "I'm dealing okay. Certainly a lot better than Dick is."

Impulsively, she linked her arm with his and bumped the side of his leg playfully with her hip. "Of course you are. Personally, I always considered you the more rational of the two of you."

Tim snorted and aimed a small smile at her to let her know he appreciated her attempt at lightening the mood.

They found a small café that was relatively empty, despite it being the weekend and nice weather to boot. It was probably relatively empty because the food wasn't very good, but right now, the two of them needed privacy to talk more than they need a culinary revelation.

They both ordered a burger and a large coke, wanted the ordering to be short and simple so they could get talking faster.

Because of the nice weather, they chose to sit outside at the table furthest from the door. It worked well because it was sheltered from any prying ears and it provided shade for Morgan so she didn't get a sun burn.

Tim sighed and slapped the heavy books onto the table, the aluminum surface creaking ominously under their weight.

"So," Morgan leaned forward and finally shrugged out of her jacket, draping it over the back of her chair. "The plan?"

He picked at a thread on the book at the bottom, a green, leather bound one, looking like he was gathering his thoughts.

"I was kinda thinking you should just.. approach him and talk to him."

Well. _That_ was a very simple plan.

Morgan blinked at him. "That's all you got?"

Tim frowned at her and shrugged, like he was almost embarrassed by his very detail-lacking idea. "What, do you want me to write out lines for you?"

"No, I just.. Well, I figured you'd have a less vague plan of attack. M'gann and Connor said you've all tried to talk to him but he refused to listen." Morgan reminded him. "And I know you seem to think me and him shared a special.. bond."

"I don't _think_ you did," Tim cut in, sounding very confident in his statement. "You _did _share a special bond."

Morgan waved him away. "Whatever – what I'm trying to say is I'd like some sort of strategy before I go in."

"Well, what did you usually do when you tried to persuade him back in the day?" Tim asked.

Morgan pursed her lips in thought. "Well, I guess I annoyed him into agreeing. Or shouted until he got tired of listening to it. At the end.. once we started dating, I just, uh, seduced him."

He raised an eyebrow, a small, teenage-boy smirk on hips lips. "Seduced him?"

Morgan pressed her lips together and shrugged defensively. "Hey, we were stupid teenagers. Seducing him as easy. All I had to do was show a bit of skin and talk in a low voice."

He stared into space for a moment before blinking rapidly, probably ridding himself of unwanted mental images. Then he looked back at Morgan and tilted his head at her. "Well, shouting and annoying isn't going to work. He'll just respond in kind. He's gotten pretty good at that. Seducing, however.. D'you think that could work?"

"Tim, I'm not-" Morgan began quite passionately before he interrupted her.

"I know!" Tim snapped his fingers and grinned like he had just experienced a revelation. "You dress like a total hooker. He'll be so distracted he'll listen to _anything_ you have to say! You know, make Dick think with his dick." He grimaced at that last part. "As the saying goes.."

Morgan gaped at him, not entirely sure how such a fundamentally idiotic idea had been spawned from his usually brilliant brain.

"Are you trying to suggest I _seduce_ Dick into taking care of himself? Like, 'Oh baby, it's such a turn on when you eat at least three meals a day and get eight hours of sleep and remember to hang out with your friends and relax every once in a while'?" She voice was flat as she spoke, Tim realizing how stupid that idea really was.

Tim deflated and slumped back in his chair. "Okay, so I see how that might not work." It occured to Morgan that Tim really didn't know what to do about his older brother, and that he'd clearly hoped Morgan somehow would've. Looking at him now, she could gauge the signs of stress and sadness. He'd lost his adoptive father, _and _had had to watch his older brother lose himself in the process. Morgan wanted to help. She really _did._ Not just for Dick, but for everyone he was affecting with his behavior. But she just wasn't sure what she should do. It seemed all she knew was what she _shouldn't_ do. Such as seducing him.

"Besides, I can't even be sure he's actually into me anymore." Morgan admitted. "I haven't talked to him for a year. And wouldn't it be a bit strange if I just showed up suddenly and _seduced _him for no reason?_"_

Tim studied her silently with his calculating face on, and Morgan self-consciously squirmed in her chair as she waited for him to speak up.

"Whether he's into you or not, I think your presence is going to sway him more than you think. Even before the two of you started dating, you had this way of bending him to your will."

Morgan wasn't entirely sure she believed him, but she let it go. She'd promised to help them knock sense into Dick's stubborn skull, so that's what she would do.

"How about I just show up in my normal clothes, yeah?" She suggested.

Tim fixed her with a serious look. "Make sure you look hot." He ordered.

"Come on, we already established the 'Dick thinking with his dick' thing isn't gonna work." She protested.

She grew slightly mortified when the waiter came with their food right as she'd blurted out the last part, the brunette looking at them weirdly as she placed their orders in front of them. She bustled off immediately afterwards, taking the order of a newly arrived customer.

Tim shrugged, getting back on track as he dug into his fries like a starved man. "Yeah, but he's always been a bit weak when it came to beautiful women, so looking your best would help the case."

Morgan rolled her eyes at him and took a long sip from her coke – scrunching her nose up in distaste when she found it lukewarm – praying for patience with the ridiculous boy across from her.

"Look, if his weakness was really beautiful women, you could've just gone and gotten a random, beautiful woman to talk to him, but you didn't. You got _me_." She reminded him firmly. "Which means you trust _me_ to sway him somehow. Don't you think it'd make more sense if I approached him looking like me and not some Barbie tart?"

Tim blinked at her with his burger halfway between his mouth and the plate. "See, I don't get why you think _I_ should be the one making all the plans when you clearly already know what would be best to do." He said it like it was the most obvious thing before taking a bite.

Morgan blew a curl out of her face, chewing on a mouthful of greasy fries as she contemplated her answer.

"Alright, so, normal clothes." She decided. "Where should I meet him?"

"The Batcave." Tim immediately decided.

Morgan chocked on her burger. "Am I even allowed to _go_ there?"

"Technically, no." He admitted. "Which is why it's perfect. The shock factor will make him less hostile."

"Or more angry!" Morgan pointed out.

She was actually totally curious and willing to go to the Batcave – seriously, how cool would it be to have been one of the few people to actually go there? – but she'd push that selfish curiosity to the side for now.

Tim shook his head. "No, seriously, it's a good idea. He can't just 'Batman' out of there because he won't want to leave you alone in the Batcave, with all of its secrets and computers. Which means _you_ get to decide when the talk is over!" Tim enthusiastically realized.

"Or he could just throw me out." Morgan pointed out, still skeptical.

"Not if you're flying out of his reach." Tim said in an 'aha!' kinda way.

Morgan got a mental image of her flying along the ceiling of the Batcave, dodging batarangs as she shouted heartfelt advice at a very pissed off Batman.

She blinked the image away and focused on Tim again. Part of her wanted to tell him that it was a bad idea, but part of her also figured it could work. Maybe.

"Alright," She sighed. "I'll give it a try."

* * *

July 6th, 2016

_The sun was like a warm blanket covering her entire body, and Morgan eyes had drifted shut several minutes ago. The hum of the honeybees in the air was like a lullaby putting her to sleep, aided greatly by the warm hand playing with her hair._

_Her head bobbed up and down with the movement of Dick's deep, content sigh, and Morgan opened one eye to peep at him, dissatisfied with her pillow moving too much about._

_"Morgan?" His own voice was drowsy, like he was just as close to slumber as she was. Morgan simply hummed in reply, too lazy to form words._

_"You should get out of the sun before you burn yourself." He said, briefly halting his hand's movement in her hair._

_Morgan shook her head, making her curls spread across his chest and stomach even more than they'd already been. "I put on sun screen before we got out here."_

_He gradually reassumed his massage of her scalp once she'd said this, making Morgan let out a blissful sigh._

_A fly buzzed annoyingly by her ear and hovered there for a moment before landing right on her face. Morgan's previously peaceful face scrunched up and she batted the fly away. Suddenly not so sleepy anymore because of the stupid pest, she opened her eyes and adjusted her head so it was more angled towards his._

_Her eyes trailed along the Wayne Manor garden briefly, taking in the lush, well-kept lawn and all the impressive but ridiculous bush statues._

_A question sprung to her mind and she bit into her bottom lip as she plucked up the courage to ask it._

_"Dick?"_

_There must've been something in her tone because he opened his eyes immediately and looked at her, propping himself up on one elbow. "Yeah?"_

_"Purely hypothetically speaking.. if Batman dies, you're expected to take his place, aren't you?"_

_She literally felt his muscles clench underneath her head as his entire body stilled._

_"Um. Yes, I suppose so."_

_Morgan nodded and decided to drop the topic when it made him so obviously uncomfortable._

_The silence lasted for a full minute, and then, surprisingly, he broke it._

_"Back when the Team was first formed.." He paused and Morgan opened her eyes again to gauge his expression. "We participated in an.. unusual training exercise. We were all psychically linked through M'gann and put into a trance. In this trance, it was like we were on a normal mission, inside our heads. Only, despite everything we did, things only got worse and worse and ended with basically everyone dying. It was supposed to prepare us for those missions that go inevitably wrong, where there is no way of winning. In the beginning, we all knew it was all make believe, but at some point.. we forgot."_

_Morgan felt sympathy twinge at her heart, mingled with being touched that he was telling her this._

_"Eventually, Kaldur died too, and the leadership of the Team fell to me." He closed his eyes briefly, eyebrows knit tightly together as if reliving the memory. "I came up with a plan, but it was basically suicide, and I knew this. I let Superboy play bait, sacrificed him, so the rest of us could sneak inside the enemy's ship, and I wasn't even being subtle about it. I.. I died in an explosion shortly afterwards, my last thoughts on how I'd utterly failed my team as well as everything I'd been trained to become."_

_He sighed and opened his eyes again, peering at her with a blank expression. "We all got counseling after that exercise. And I realized.. I realized that I couldn't.. wouldn't.. be the Batman that my mentor was. I discovered that I lacked the drive needed to lose friend after friend and yet keep fighting. I realized that I was different than him. So I swore to myself that I'd be my own version of a superhero, and not strive to be a clone of Batman as I'd done earlier. No matter what, I wouldn't become him."_

_Morgan contemplated his words silently, mulling them over._

_"I'm sorry to say this.." She started. "But I think you might've failed."_

_He looked surprised at her and Morgan immediately elaborated. "When I first met you, I remember being so annoyed by your 'tough guy' act and how you always seemed to try to be exactly like Batman. I mean.. I don't think that anymore, obviously, but if that was my first impression.. Maybe there's a bit of truth to it."_

_Dick sat up, which prompted her to sit up too because she was leaning on him, running a hand through his hair and looking at her with a sad expression. "I guess old habits die hard. I spent almost a decade under his wing, having all of his ideals drilled into me. Sometimes, it's difficult to figure out whether I feel like I do in specific situations because that's how I truly feel, or it's because that how he's taught me I should feel. Either way, it can be difficult to find your own way when you've had such a prominent and opinionated figure for a mentor."_

_Morgan nodded, understanding completely and glad he hadn't gotten angry by what she'd said._

_"You're a good leader." She assured him, running her fingers along his jaw line once before settling her hand there. She smiled encouragingly. "And I've no doubt that you'll make an amazing Batman when the time comes."_

* * *

I promise they meet each other in the next chapter. Pinky promise 'n shit.

Btw, throughout the story, I'll be adding small scenes from their past, memories, if you will, that tie into what's currently going on in their lives. Just to create parallels that will emotionally devastate all of us by reminding us of how things were as opposed to how things currently are. Yay!

We weren't really given much insight on Tim's character in the second season of YJ, and even then, it was always while he was Robin, so I figured I would get to partly decide what sort of person he is for myself. Tim is probably one of the characters I know the least about in the Batfamily, so if anyone happen to be a Tim expert, please help me out if I'm doing something horribly wrong.

Also, since a lot of people expressed interested in knowing what her new suit looks like, I posted a picture on the tumblr page. The url is still feathers-in-the-night, so go check it out!

Fun fact: I was very tempted to write all the memories in present tense, just to sort of change the mood and make them stand out from the rest of the story, but my pen friend/beta told me that 'one simply DOES NOT mix past and present tense', which I guess she's right about. So, I decided to not do it, but for a while I was very, very tempted.


	4. Strangers

**Chapter Four: Strangers**

* * *

June 3rd

Morgan swallowed nervously and tugged at a curl resting over her right shoulder, trying to get a good look around Wayne Manor as Tim led her hurriedly through the vast mansion.

She'd already seen the residence, back from before she'd left, but the place was so huge and detailed, and it was difficult to not forget a lot of it after an extended period of time.

He pushed her into what she quickly realized to be a small study. A sturdy, old fashioned desk took up most of the space in the room, the walls lined from top to bottom with bookshelves filled to the brim.

Funnily enough, despite the lack of space, a piano had been pushed into one corner of the room, right beside an old grandfather clock that didn't even work.

Tim closed the door behind them and wiped his hands on his jeans, seeming uncharacteristically nervous.

Morgan wanted to ask what they were doing in the study when he was supposed to lead her to the Batcave, but the words stayed behind her lips when he marched towards the piano and played a simple three-note tune. As soon as his finger had touched down on the last note, the front of the grandfather clock swung to the side. Morgan approached the clock, feeling a draft of cool air coming from it. It was dark inside and there were crude stairs cut directly into the rock, leading further down into what she could only assume was the Batcave.

Tim stood beside the newly appeared doorway and nodded encouragingly at her, his lips pressed together firmly.

Morgan was overcome with the strange urge to salute or announce that she was 'going in', simply to defuse the tension.

Then again, she was probably even more nervous than he was, so it really should've been him trying to comfort her instead of the other way around.

"Good luck." He mouthed and Morgan nodded at him with wide eyes. She swallowed dryly as she turned her attention onto the staircase, taking one hesitant step inside. She was reminded of that old Greek myth about the castle that had a labyrinth underneath it. In the labyrinth was a ferocious minotaur lurking about, killing everyone who dared cross its path.

As Morgan's fingers found the cave wall and she ran her hand along the rough surface while walking, she almost wanted to go battle that minotaur. Surely it would be easier than talking to her former mentor. It would certainly be far less awkward. She'd shared so much with Dick. He'd been her mentor. Her team mate. Her best friend. Her first kiss. Her first boyfriend. Her first.. well..

And then they'd simply lost contact.

That sort of situation was bound to create a level of tension she wasn't sure she was prepared to face. Maybe it was the uncertainty that made her so nervous. She had no way of knowing how he'd react upon seeing her. She had no way of knowing how _she'd _react upon seeing him. She was no idea what to expect, and so she couldn't mentally and emotionally prepare herself.

It was a good thing she was fast at adapting, then.

The stairs ended in front of a lift – the kind she had soon on documentaries on mines – and she stepped onto it, pulling a lever. As the lift zoomed down at a rapid pace, she held tightly onto the railing to avoid losing her balance. It stopped a few seconds later, a new set of stairs appearing in front of her. Already, she could see some fo the Batcave.

Morgan felt strangely.. _initiated_ as she walked down the steps, more and more of the Batcave revealing itself to her. She knew this place was like the _secret_ of secrets. Out of all the heroes in the Justice League, Batman had been the one to guard his secrets the most. Morgan had honestly never imagined she'd be one of the few people to actually see the Batcave, despite technically being closer associated to him through her own mentor situation, than a lot of the other heroes she knew.

She supposed if she had to be sorted into a 'superhero' family, many people would place her with the bats because she'd trained under Nightwing and had been placed on the Team by Batman. And also because she knew all of their secret identities – however accidental those discoveries might have been.

The underground cave she found herself in was much, _much_ larger than she'd imagined it would be. Large enough to comfortable fit a massive computer with, like, a dozen screens, a second level with a medical bed and everything you could need to stitch yourself up after a long night of fighting crime, a work station with a huge collection of batarangs, grapple guns and many, many other gadgets that she had no idea what did, and several transportation methods, such as a motorcycle, the Batmobile and a literal _plane_. Wasn't it called the Batwing?

_When in doubt, add 'bat' in front of the word.._

And that was only the _practical_ part of the place. On the level where she was currently standing – the one above the level with the Batcomputer – it branched out on either side of the room. One side showcased a row of Batman and Robin outfits. She was pretty sure she spotted Dick's first costume as Robin, complete with the yellow utility belt and black domino mask. She felt strange when, at the end of the row, his Nightwing costume was on display as well. It felt so.. final. Like it already belong in a museum because that part of his life was long gone. Like he ahd completely let Nightwing go.

On the other side, there was a really strange collection of.. things. There was a life-sized T-Rex for some reason. And a huge-ass coin. And some cards. She supposed it might've been souvenirs from some of Batman's missions, even though she really hadn't pegged him to be the sentimental, collecting kind.

She was so entranced by the cave in its entirety that it actually took her a moment to notice Batman himself. He was standing with his back to her, fiddling with something by the work table, which was probably the only reason why Morgan didn't have a batarang lodged somewhere in her body yet.

She took in a deep breath and approached the five-stepped staircase that would lead her to the level he was on.

She'd walked three steps when he must've realized that it wasn't Tim or Alfred or Robin behind him, but someone else. Maybe her footsteps weren't heavy enough, or something. Maybe it was simply because she hadn't said anything yet.

He turned around with a batarang poised in his grip before Morgan got the chance to take another step. She halted in her spot and didn't say a word, simply studying him up close.

He really _had_ gotten taller and broader. Dick had always been muscled, but never as much as he was now. She noticed that he'd shaved since yesterday and had to admit she liked him clean shaven better. His face was set in an intimidating scowl, only aided by the dark bruises under his bloodshot eyes.

She could tell, even with fifteen feet between them, that he wasn't taking care of himself.

It made her sad. Dick had always been so disciplined with himself, making sure to keep his body and mind as healthy and trained as he could. And now he was letting both his body and mind rot away in his desperate need for revenge.

It looked like it actually took him a second to place her, but when he did, his scowl slackened and his eyes widened momentarily. It was just long enough to let Morgan see that, despite how changed he looked, his eyes were the same. Intelligent, deep blue and so _very_ expressive.

She could see him close down almost physically as he straightened and dropped his batarang back onto the table.

"Morgan." He spoke in a dead voice, as if her presence neither surprised nor affected him. His eyes trailed up and down her body in a way that was entirely analytical and didn't have an ounce of feeling in it. She remembered back in the day when his eyes roaming over her body would make her shiver in delight. Now it made her shiver in discomfort at how utterly unfazed he appeared.

He finished his scanning of her appearance and turned his back to her again, continuing whatever he'd been doing before. The sound of his tinkering was the only noise between them for a short while.

"You've gained weight." He simply said, like that was the conclusion to his analysis.

Morgan bristled in annoyance, angry that she was failing to get through to him before she'd even started.

"And you've gained an attitude." She responded acidly, walking those last few steps, her feet touching down on the steel floor.

She contemplated approaching him completely, but decided to keep her distance for now.

"I assume Tim put you up to this?" He asked next, still speaking in that cool, unfeeling voice.

"He's concerned for you." Morgan truthfully answered not trying to deny Tim's part. She had the uncomfortable feeling that he'd be able to detect any lie the second it left her lips. "We all are."

She spoke the last words softly, hoping to perhaps appeal to his heart or something.

He didn't respond. Not because he didn't know how to answer her, but simply because he couldn't seem bothered to care about what she said.

Morgan grew frustrated and had to stop herself from stomping her foot on the floor like a toddler.

"Dick.. What happened to you?" She eventually got out, her tongue darting out to wet her dry bottom lip. "Tim says you've sent more than a dozen criminals to the hospital with serious injuries this week_alone_. You barely leave the Batcave except for patrols.. You skip meals all the time.. You don't sleep."

He let out a growl of annoyance and let the device he'd fiddling with fall to the table below with a _clang_, turning to her again. She noticed then that his hair had gotten longer as well, the messy tufts hanging in his eyes and sticking up in many directions as if he'd been running his hands through it several times today.

"When did you suddenly become the expert on _my _life?" He asked with more emotion in his voice than she'd heard him used since approaching him. Too bad it was anger and annoyance.

"The others told me plenty." She shot back, sounding like a disapproving mother.

"Of course." He bit out with contempt, turning his side to her and glaring darkly at the floor. "Can't leave me alone, can they? They must've been really desperate since they decided to ship _you_ all the way here just to talk to me."

The last part he spoke more to himself than her, but Morgan heard it anyway and decided to use it.

"Of course they're desperate!" She ground out, clenching her fists at her sides. "They're afraid that you're going to get yourself killed if you keep going the way you are now!"

"I don't _need_ a babysitter." He growled behind clenched teeth and Morgan got the feeling he was close to snapping. She was tempted to push him over that edge just to see what would happen if she did. Eighteen-year-old-Morgan certainly would've done it.

"And I'm not here to babysit you." She promised instead. "But you need help, Dick." She took a few urgent steps forward, so close that she could touch his cape if she reached out.

For some inexplicable reason, her hands started shaking at that thought, her body reacting to finally being so close to him again after two years of being apart. She hated how, even now, he seemed to have that sort of pull on her – even though it was only her body and not her mind, too. Her mind was angry at him, repulsed even. But she also felt sympathy for him. And the desperate need to do everything she could to steer him in the right direction again. He'd helped her with that enough for Morgan to instantly want to return the favor.

She quickly decided to keep talking before he could notice her shaking hands and annoyingly conflicted emotions.

"I mean.. skipping meals? Avoiding sleep? You used to take such good care of yourself, Dick." She willed him to understand how much she wanted – needed – him to take care of himself. "Not to mention your actions. You never put thugs in the hospital. You never ignore your friends. You've taken a _ten year old_ on as Robin. A ten year old!"

His eyes snapped up to meet hers again. "I was _nine_ when I started out." He protested.

His voice wasn't as venomous as before, like he'd forgotten momentarily that he was supposed to be angry with her, and Morgan couldn't help but consider this progress.

"And look where that got you!" She shouted in agitation, motioning for him and the cave they were in, hoping his obvious exhaustion and unhappiness would prove her point for her. "And you always told me you weren't going to be like the former Batman. You _told_ me you were going to do things _different_. If you'd really meant that, you wouldn't let a _child_ risk their life every night on your stupid crusade for revenge!"

Her eyes widened and she realized that had probably the wrong – worst – thing to say, especially when his face contorted into an absolutely murderous glare.

"Get out." He hissed at her.

"I-"

"_GET OUT!"_

His loud roar echoed throughout the cavern, startling a small clutter of bats that proceeded to shriek and flutter around in confusion.

Morgan was tempted to stand her ground and glare up at him. She'd done it plenty of times before. She'd clench her fists and lean towards him, speak in a dangerously low voice, or perhaps start all out shouting. She'd wear him down until he was too tired of fighting with her to keep going.

But she looked upon him and realized with a sense of finality that this wasn't the same Dick as the one she'd left behind in an airport two years ago. This Dick wasn't going to give up just because she had once been louder and more stubborn than he.

She cast him one last look, trying to convey her worry, anger and affection in that one gaze, and then she turned on her heel and stalked back up the stairs.

She squinted in the daylight pooling in from the large window in the study, spotting Tim immediately.

He grimaced at her. "So, I take it that didn't go too well."

Morgan shook her head darkly. "He's a stubborn ass." She grumbled.

As little as the encounter had changed, it actually hadn't been _entirely_ pointless.

She'd gotten to see him. Gauge what kind of mindset he had.

And a plan was already forming in her mind.

If she wanted to get through to him, she'd have to wear him down over a longer period of time. Chip a bit at his wall every day until it gave away entirely. Make the change so gradual that he didn't even notice it until it had already happened.

This wasn't something she could barrel through as she'd grown used to doing. It would require subtlety and sneakiness, two traits Morgan unfortunately knew she'd always lacked.

But damnit if she didn't intend to try anyway. She'd just moved halfway across the _world_ for him – she wasn't about to admit defeat after only trying once.

"Tim.." She turned flashing eyes onto him. "I've got an idea."

_I'm not giving up on you just yet._ _That's a promise._

* * *

June 7th

Dick sat in Bruce's old office, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of him, wishing his eyes weren't stinging and his vision swimming as he rapidly lost his fight to sleep.

It was eleven in the evening and he had patrol later, but he really needed to finish reading up on this company from England that Wayne Enterprises hoped to cooperate with in the future. Something about working together on installing new sewers in all major cities in Peru. The company could make a lot of money if the deal worked out and they scored the assignment, or so Lucius Fox had told him. But first, Dick needed to make sure the British company was trustworthy.

He knew Bruce wouldn't have agreed to any deals with anyone before double checking on them first. And despite how boring and tiresome he found the work, Dick refused to slack off when bruce wouldn't have.

He hadn't exactly inherited Wayne Enterprises. More like.. taken over some of Bruce's work until his two brothers were old enough to get their own share. After Bruce's death, the board had taken a lot of his duties upon them until Dick himself was older and capable enough to accept those responsibilities as well. He was _so_ glad he'd finished that business degree at the University before shit had hit the fan.

But even though the board had lifted a large portion off of his shoulders, he still had a lot of work to take care of. He was almost constantly behind on his paperwork, and only actually made it to the office once or twice a week.

He was only twenty one for Christ's sake, and suddenly it was expected of him to run a huge company with little guidance.

Added to his duties as Batman and using all of his spare time trying to figure out who had been involved in Bruce's murder, the young man was starting to feel the strain.

He rubbed his tired eyes with the palm of his hand and let out a deep sigh, picking up the picture of Thomas and Martha Wayne he hadn't dared move from the desk. A small picture of Bruce had been placed next to the one of his parents.

He allowed his mind to wander, hating how it immediately and treacherously glided into forbidden waters.

Compared to how often he told himself that he refused to think about their encounter from a few days earlier, it was embarrassing how much he was actually thinking about it.

He frowned and set the picture of his adopted grandparents down, afraid he'd accidentally clench it so tightly in his fist that he'd crack the glass.

Morgan's sudden appearance had been entirely unexpected. He couldn't clearly remember the last time he'd been that surprised.

She'd change a lot. He was pretty sure she'd gotten just a tiny bit taller – maybe an inch or half an inch or so. She'd certainly grown otherwise. It was like she'd transformed from a girl into a woman in those two years she'd been gone.

Her hips where still wide and round, and exactly like he remembered he'd liked them. He swore she'd grown in.. other places as well. Like she'd had one last minute visit from puberty, which had gifted her with a slightly larger chest.

Her facial features had gotten sharper, less round and more refined, like she'd lost her remaining baby fat, which just made her eyes pop out even more.

Dick ran a hand through his hair and told himself _not_ to go there.

But he did.

.. Her lips had still looked as plumb and pink as always and it annoyed him that several of their kisses had kept running through his mind when they'd talked.

The only feature of hers that seemed to have stayed the exact same was actually her wild, curly hair, and it would've amused him if it hadn't made him scowl in misplaced annoyance and anger.

He shook his head. It wasn't like it mattered. Morgan was no more than an unwelcome distraction – no, he wouldn't even call her that. She had been a one-time annoyance that he wasn't going to waste any more time on.

Dick was pulled him his unwanted thoughts when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in, Alfred." He spoke up – he could recognize Alfred's specific knock anywhere – and blinked rapidly to try and wake himself up. He didn't need the butler to tell him he looked like he needed sleep.

The man in question opened the door and entered silently.

Alfred stood by the desk for a small moment and Dick tried to focus on the report he'd been reading as he waited for the older man to speak his mind.

"Master Dick, I don't know if this has managed to escape your notice, but I'm growing old." Alfred said in a deadpan.

Dick frowned at the paper below before he pointed that frown at his housekeeper. He wondered where this was going.

"And your point is?"

He swore he'd intended to go for a less rude response, but he was tired and annoyed and _not_ in the mood for sassy British men.

"My _point_ is that I'm growing older and this is a large house. As much as it pains me to admit it, I'm no longer able to keep up with the copious amounts of chores that come with such a large estate."

Dick still wasn't catching on. "You want us to _move?" _

Alfred fixed him with a look that made Dick feel like he'd just said the dumbest thing the other man had heard in his entire life.

"I believe hiring a maid would be a much less complicated solution." He dryly responded.

_Oooooh.._

Dick frowned, instantly skeptical. "Do you really think that's a good idea? What about all the secrets going on in this house? Are you _sure_ you can't go on by yourself for a bit longer?"

Alfred looked almost sternly at him. "I'm well aware of my own limitations, Master Dick, and I have reached them. As for your secrets, you need not worry. They will live in the opposite side of the Manor, as far away from the study and your usual living area as possible. You will hardhly notice they presence."

Dick studied the butler for a second, trying to gauge if there was some sort of hidden agenda in this.

Then he remembered that this was _Alfred_, the one person he knew he could always rely on. And what kind of hidden agenda could Alfred possibly be aiming for?

"Fine." Dick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll.. start looking for someone in the morning."

"Absolutely not." Alfred quickly and quite sternly denied. "Master Dick, they will be working under my orders, and so I should very much prefer to choose them for myself. And you already have far too many things on your plate as it is. I will take care of this small matter."

Dick looked at Alfred again and found the energy to smile. "Thanks, Alfred. I trust you'll find exactly the right person for the job."

Alfred left after that, and Dick pushed the matter from his mind pretty fast. He couldn't imagine that the appearance of a maid would make much of a difference for him, so he quickly turned his attention onto the paper work on the desk again.

Glancing down at his watch, he saw that it was nearly a quarter to twelve already, and he hurried to wrap up his work, knowing that Damian would arrive at any moment now.

He'd barely finished the thought when the study's door opened up again, allowing the young boy entrance.

"_You _told _me you were going to do things _different_. If you'd really meant that, you wouldn't let a child risk their life every night on your stupid crusade for revenge!"_

Dick hated how her words were the first thing that sprung to mind the moment he laid eyes on Damian.

Truth was, with the boy's constantly scowling face and _very_ serious and grown-up demeanor, Dick sometimes forgot just how young he really was. Damian had only just turned elleven, but he carried himself like he was forty.

"Are you ready, Grayson?" Damian spoke, his formal tone not quite able to mask how young his voice actually was.

Dick gathered all of his paperwork into two piles. One pile was all the work he'd managed to finish and the other was all the work he hadn't gotten to yet. The fact that the 'unfinished' pile was much larger than the 'finished' pile made him sigh in annoyance and defeat.

"Ready." He eventually answered and rose from his seat. He approached the piano in the corner and pressed down on the three keys that opened the grandfather clock. Only then did Damian stop lingering by the door, and Dick was vaguely reminded of the boy's years of training under the League of Assassins. He'd been taught to speak when spoken to and to only enter a room when he knew he was expected or had been allowed entrance. It was strange how such a young boy could be so disciplined. Eerie, almost. But it made him a descent Robin. When he actually followed orders, that is. Sometimes he'd get just a bit too independent.

But when he _did_ follow orders, he was as brilliant and focused as Dick could've ever wished for in a partner.

In a way, Dick supposed he was glad he had been Morgan's mentor back in the day. Her stubbornness and temper had made her quite a mouthful, and it had made him far better equipped to handle someone as complicated and stubborn as Damian. He supposed their tempers were much alike, actually, except that Damian was far more murderous than Morgan had been.

They dressed up in silence, which suited both of them just fine. Another good thing about Damian – he didn't feel the need to fill the silence with unnecessary chatter.

"Tonight's just patrol." Dick spoke up five minutes later as he slipped the cowl in place and readjusted his cape. He hadn't gotten any leads or any major crimes going on tonight, and none of Gotham's usual criminals had shown their faces in a while, so he didn't expect anything too difficult. Maybe they'd even be able to finish up early so he could go home and sleep.

_Or _he could spend that extra time on tracking Batman's killers.

Damian nodded and jumped into the Batmobile, waiting for Dick to take the wheel.

After only a week, the younger boy had stop offering to drive, seemingly realizing that it was wasted energy. Dick wasn't about to let an elleven year old kid drive the Batmobile, even if it was a strange comfort to know that Damian _could_ drive, in case of an emergency.

They were speeding along the streets of Gotham only ten minutes later. Dick swerved towards a dark alley and parked the car, knowing that both he and Damian preferred to patrol the city via rooftop and not by car. The police radio buzzed quietly in his left ear, Dick only half listening. If anything major happened, he'd notice, but for now everything seemed quiet on the police's end.

The dynamic duo had been moving rapidly from rooftop to rooftop for maybe half an hour when the police radio caught his attention. An attempted robbery at one of the larger banks in Gotham. The police had surrounded the building, but the robbers were heavily armed and had barricaded themselves inside the building.

He looked at Damian and didn't even need to speak for the kid to know that he'd gotten them a crime to fight.

"Where?"

"Gotham Royal Bank."

Dick kept his attention on the police radio, hoping to get some clues as to how many robbers they were talking about. And just _how_ armed was _heavily _armed?

They were at the bank in only five minutes. Batman nimbly jumped off the roof he was on and glided to the ground – the only thing that heavy cape was actually good for – landing behind the police officers. Damian was next to him a second later.

They were all taking cover behind their cars, guns trained on the bank. Batman could see several smashed windows, which had been covered with piles of desks and chairs and crates, as if the robbers had planned the barricade from the very beginning and had started building before the police even got there.

It worried him. They must've been pretty confident that they'd be able to get away from all of those police officers, which made Dick wonder just what sorts of weapons they could be hiding in there.

"Gordon." He raised his voice just enough to gain the attention of the commissioner and the three officers closest to him.

"Thank god you're here." Gordon sounded relieved and very stressed out. "They'd been at it for more than an hour when a patrol car discovered them. We haven't gotten a visual on them yet, they shoot at us the second we leave the cover of our cars."

Batman nodded "No sign of –"

Quite abruptly, loud shouting and several guns going off at the same time inside the bank reached their ears. A few times, Dick recognized the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Somebody was fighting.

Batman frowned and took a step forward. "What the-?"

The shouting and shooting stopped, leaving behind an eerie silence.

Then, the large desk blocking the front door fell away, and a very familiar figure emerged.

It was Morgan – well, Sparrow – and she was pulling two unconscious thugs along behind her.

She looked different. At least, the suit was different. Well, _of course_ the suit was different; he still had her old one in a box, tugged safely into the corner of his closet.

The new suit was a lighter blue than the older one, but the light color was balanced out by the black cape fluttering behind her. The winged symbol on her chest had gotten larger but simpler, resembling a 'v' more than a pair of wings, reaching to the tips of her shoulders to about three inches below her chest.

Her wings had gotten bigger – much bigger. They spread and beat once or twice on her back as she walked, and he now understood why the symbol on her chest had been changed. Her old symbol would have looked underwhelming next to a pair of wings like that.

"They're all knocked out. You can go get them now. There should be ten left in there." She told the police simply, dropping the two in her grip in front of their strategically parked cars.

The officers gaped at her before most of them broke from their barricade to cautiously approach the bank. When nobody inside started shooting at them, they relaxed their stances and jogged inside.

Batman felt rage boil in his stomach when the police started dragging out unconscious man after unconscious man.

"Who is she?" Damian asked him. Dick's tense stance and clenched jaw must've made the boy suspect he recognized her.

Batman didn't answer.

But Morgan, who'd been approaching the moment she'd spotted them, smiled cheekily down at the boy and laced a hand on her hip.

"I'm his ex-girlfriend." She told Damian smugly, to Dick's absolute horror.

Damian frowned at her and then at Dick, like he couldn't quite connect the dots. Whether he was wondering why Dick had once been dating someone like that, or why someone like that would've dated Dick, he wasn't sure.

Either way, he only got angrier at her for bringing it up. And for sounding so casual about it.

He knew the police was going to take care of the rest, so, still not having said a word, he grabbed hold of the loose fabric of the cape on her shoulder and marched rapidly away, forcing Morgan to walk backwards in his steely grip.

He rounded a corner, vaguely aware of Robin following, and slammed her against the nearest wall, keeping his grip on her cape and placing his forearm against her collarbone to lock her in place.

"What do you think you're doing?" He snarled at her.

Morgan had dropped her cheerful attitude the moment she was away from the police, and she aimed a dark glare up at him from behind the domino mask he recognized to be the only part of her costume that remained unchanged.

"What does it look like I'm doing? You might've thrown me out of the Batcave and your life, but you _can't_ throw me out of Gotham." She snapped. "I'm doing exactly what _you_ trained me to do."

"Gotham's _my_ city!" He bit out, trying to control his own breathing.

Morgan clasped a hand onto his forearm and pushed herself forward, getting as close to him as she could. He saw that she was wearing fingerless gloves, much like the ones Connor had used, and wondered if the gloves didn't stump her telekinesis like they'd done back in the day.

"You don't get to call dibs on an _entire city,_ you ass!" She hissed out from behind clenched teeth.

He let out an actual growl and pushed away from her, wondering how he was both annoyed and comforted by the fact that she'd lost none of her temper. Part of him wanted to respond that, _yes_, he _did_ get to call dibs on an entire city, but he didn't. He knew how childish and stupid that would sound, and he hated how she'd won this time.

"Just stay out of my way." He said in a low voice, rapidly reigning in his anger.

Morgan blinked at him for a moment before smirking. "I'll do my best. Can't promise you'll be able to stay out of _my_ way, though."

The trash flying around in the alley scattered at the gust of wind her powerful wings created when she took to the air.

"I'll see you around, Bats."

And then she was gone, effortlessly soaring into the sky. He remembered when she'd barely been able to lift herself off of the ground, remembered how pathetic her wings had been back then.

They weren't anymore.

"I certainly hope not.." He mumbled under his breath.

"Alright, _who was she?"_ Damian demanded.

Batman sighed, suddenly far too tired to finish their patrol. "Sparrow. She was part of the Team, once. I was her mentor." He swallowed and looked at his feet, almost in shame. "And.. and we dated. For a short while. But then she left."

He tried to push the memories that small admission brought up at bay.

Robin's keen eyes watched her small form in the sky, seemingly procession his words.

"I like her." He concluded.

Dick frowned and looked at Robin. "No you don't. You don't like anybody." He reminded him.

"No." Robin agreed. "But I like _her_."

* * *

So, I guess they'll have to basically start from scratch, eh? But don't worry, Morgan's got a plan!

And I'm sure Dick'll come around at some point. She'll just have to nag him enough.

Fun fact: Son of Batman (the movie) is absolutely 100% canon in this story. I'll be basing my Damian off of that Damian. Bear in mind, however, that he's lost his fatehr since the happenings of the movie, so he's going to be different. Less stuck up and more solemn, I think. He's realized that there are more important things in life than always being the best at everything and proving everyone wrong. And I think losing his dad also made him realize that keeping everybody else at an arms length will only hurt himself in the long run.


	5. Wayne Manor

**Chapter Five: Wayne Manor**

* * *

Morgan crawled through her window and threw the mask off of her face, huffing in annoyance.

_What a prick._

Pulling off her suit to cram it back into her suitcase, her own reflection caught her eyes.

"_You've gained weight."_

She scowled at the floor-length mirror when his words rung in her mind and turned away from it, refusing to let him get to her.

She _hadn't_ gained weight. At least, not in a bad or unhealthy way.

Morgan took her sweet time properly folding up the suit and checking her cape for any tears from his rough treatment of it. Then, she put her gloves and boots in the suitcase and placed the suit neatly on top of them, slipping the fake bottom into place so the get-up was hidden from the world.

He'd just said that to throw her off balance. To display how little he wanted her presence.

And yet..

Morgan bit down on her bottom lip and sighed in defeat, looking back at the mirror.

She stood up and approached it, studying her own body. She was just in her underwear now, and her eyes scrutinized her own features. She _had_ gained weight, but that was simply because she'd gotten two years older, had grown half an inch and gotten a larger chest. She had fairly big thighs, but she'd had those back in the day too, and if she remembered correctly, he'd never had a problem with that – quite the opposite actually.

Remembering the way both Nightwing and Batman had ordered her to start gaining weight in order to become healthy and strong, it occurred to Morgan that his comment might actually have been a sort of compliment disguised as an insult.

The thought comforted her somewhat, so she turned away from the mirror and slipped on a large t-shirt – one she ruefully realized she'd 'borrowed' from Dick before she'd left for Denmark – and crawled into bed.

As reassuring and positive as she acted around Tim, Morgan was worried. And sad. She was so terrified of what Dick was doing to himself. Of how his mental state seemed to deteriorate at an alarm pace. She felt horrible for the way they'd gone from being close friends and in a relationship to..

To whatever this was. To this hate and hostility she saw in his eyes every time they met hers.

Morgan wondered if things would've been different if she'd only stayed her two months in Denmark.

* * *

June 9th

"I really _am_ sorry for leaving again practically as soon as I got here, but I promise I'll visit whenever I can." Morgan told her mom, who was sitting on Morgan's suitcase so the younger woman could close the zipper.

Abigail waved her away. "Don't worry about it, Morgan. I know you need this job more than you need to stay at home and keep your mom company."

She stood up once the suitcase was properly shut and smiled softly at her daughter, placing a hand on her forearm. "Besides, you're not moving far."

Morgan shook her head and smirked. "Nah. Wayne Manor is only a couple of minutes from the city by car. Maybe if my employer is really nice, he'll even let me show you around some day."

_Fat chance._

Her mom nodded eagerly. "I hear it's such a _beautiful_ mansion. And the gardens!"

So far, Morgan's plan was coming along beautifully.

Well, apart from his very obvious hostility two nights ago. She'd kind of hoped his reaction would've been less 'get the hell away from my territory' and more like 'oh, hey, this is actually kinda like old times, how nice'.

Anyway, she really should've known better. At this point, he was too stubborn and angry and far out to actually react with anything but anger at everything she did. It was like he'd decided she was going to be an outlet for all the anger he felt.

Funny how the tables had turned. Back in the day, she'd been the one using _him_ as an outlet.

"Anyway, the butler's supposed to pick me up any moment now, so I should probably get my things outside."

Abigail carried her backpack for her as Morgan held onto the large suitcase with both hands, walking slowly down the stairs in the hall so she didn't trip. She hadn't even been at her mom's for a full week, and Morgan honestly _did_ feel bad for leaving so soon. She supposed, after being gone for two years, and having spent not nearly as much time with her mom as she knew she should've the months leading up to her travels, Morgan would always feel bad for leaving her mom. Her absence had happened so abruptly, she was sure it had hurt her mom just as much as her.

At least they'd packed her things _together_ this time.

They reached the sidewalk and dumped Morgan's things by the apartment building. Morgan sat down on her suitcase and leaned her back against the wall, enjoying the hot sun for a moment.

Abigail stood closer to the road, using her hand to shade her eyes from the sun as she acted lookout for this Mister Pennyworth, who'd be picking up her daughter. She'd told Morgan she wanted a close look at the man before she let her only daughter go with him. Then Morgan had reminded her mom that she was a superhero and certainly knew how to take care of herself and anyone who tried to threaten her. Also, she was _twenty._ And then she'd insisted that Alfred Pennyworth was a true gentleman.

"Mom, c'mon, don't stand so close to the road." Morgan worried as a bus rumbled by, too close to her mom for comfort. Why'd she insist on standing on the edge of the sidewalk anyway?

Abigail waved her daughter away. "Oh, don't worry. Nothing's going to happen."

"You're gonna get run over one of these days." Morgan grumbled, crossing her arms in front her as she settled more comfortably on her suitcase.

Pulling her phone out of the pocket of her black skinny jeans, Morgan almost dropped it in surprise when it started vibrating.

It was a text from Tim.

'_There in 2 minutes_.' It simply read.

She replied with an '_ok'_ and checked the time, tapping her foot against the pavement as she waited.

"The guy picking me up says they're here in two." She told her mom, who, upon hearing this, went over to sit next to her daughter.

"How old was it Wayne's eldest son was again?"

Morgan closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. "Twenty one."

"And he's the one who's taken over the Manor and Wayne Enterprises, isn't he?"

_Amongst other things.._

"Yeah. I guess so. The two other sons are too young to work for the company."

"Hm."

Morgan frowned and tilted her head, looking at her mom. "What does that mean? '_Hm'_? What are you thinking?"

Abigal shrugged innocently. "Nothing. Just.. Well, don't let him take advantage of you just because he's your boss, okay? Everybody knows Wayne was a big playboy, you never know if that rubbed off on his son, adopted or not."

"Ew, mom."Morgan scrunched up her nose, trying to appear repulsed and like the idea in itself was ridiculous.

_Hah. Little does _she_ know.._

Abigail looked at her like this was something she was genuinely worried about, so Morgan sighed and attempted to reassure her. "Don't worry. I think it's very unlikely that he'll try anything."

_Pretty damn unlikely. _

_Unfortunately. _

She straightened in her seat and spotted a large, expensive car approaching. It was a bit old fashioned, and Morgan vaguely recognized it was the car Alfred had used when Dick and she had gone to that fundraiser where Morgan met Fathiya for the first time. That seemed like several lifetimes ago now.

The thought of Fathiya made Morgan instantly think of Rachel, and she unconsciously reached a hand up to tug at the single dreadlock she'd gotten in honor of her sister. It was hidden underneath the rest of her hair a few inches behind her left ear, and you wouldn't really notice it unless you already knew it was there. it was a private thing that she liked to keep to herself.

"They're here." She announced, standing up and walking towards the car.

The large vehicle parked in front of her a second later, and Tim hopped out of the passenger seat.

"Hi!" He greeted, and upon noticing Morgan's mom approaching, proceeded with sticking his hand out formally. "I'm Tim. Tim Drake."

Morgan shook his hand, smiling wryly. "I'm Morgan. Thank you so much for hiring me."

"Hey, no problem. We really need the extra help." He shrugged, winking at her when her mom wasn't looking.

He looked around her small form and spotted her suitcase and backpack. "This all?" He pointed.

Morgan nodded. "I'm pretty low-maintenance."

"Let me help you."

They marched towards her luggage, Tim immediately picking up her large suitcase as Morgan slung her backpack over her shoulder.

The two bags were thrown into the trunk of the car and Morgan turned to say goodbye to her mom.

Tim slipped inside immediately, giving the two of them a bit of privacy.

"See? He seemed nice." Morgan pointed out. "I'm sure the others are too."

Abigail smiled and pulled her daughter in for a hug. "I really hope you'll like this job. Good luck, sweetie."

Morgan pulled back and offered her an encouraging look. "I'm sure it's gonna be great. I think Wayne Manor is the place I'm supposed to be right now. It feels.. right."

"Call me and tell me all about it when you can." Abigail ordered, pointing a stern finger in her face.

Morgan nodded earnestly. "I will. Scout's honor."

The older woman placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "You've never been a scout, you idiot."

Morgan laughed and kissed her mom's cheek before slipping into the car herself, fastening her seatbelt before turning to wave at her mom.

Soon, they turned a corner and Abigail had disappeared from view.

"Hey, Alfred." Morgan greeted the older man. She grimaced and turned thoughtful. "Or should I be calling you Mister Pennyworth from now on?"

"Alfred will do just fine, Miss Morgan."

She wanted to tell him that 'Morgan' would do just fine as well, but she got the feeling that wouldn't change much.

"Thank you so much for helping us with this, by the way. I know it can't have been easy to go behind your master's back."

Alfred looked at her in the rear-view mirror. "I don't know what you're talking about, Miss Morgan. I asked if I could hire a maid, and I did."

Morgan grinned at his reflection, understanding what he was really saying.

Tim had looked so happy to see her a moment ago, but now he seemed worried as he picked at his fingernails. "Dick's gonna kill us when he finds out the housekeeper thing was just an excuse to get you to live at the mansion. You know that, right?" He aimed that last question at Morgan.

She bit into her bottom lip and nodded. "I know."

"He's already been chewing up my ass for _days_ because I let you into the Batcave."

"I'm sure you'll survive." Morgan responded dryly.

To be honest, she was a tiny bit more worried about herself than Tim. Once Dick found out they'd played him, he was most definitely going to figure out whose idea it was. Either way, he was probably going to be fantasizing about strangling her by this time tomorrow. Her short encounter with Batman two days ago had made her realize his fuse when it came to her was extremely short.

Morgan wondered not for the first whether this was even such a good idea as she'd thought in the beginning. Maybe staying at the Manor so she could slowly nag him into letting her help was a plan that was doomed to fail from the beginning. But she wasn't sure what else she could do. If she just stayed away, she would accomplish nothing. If she only sought him out when he was on patrol, he could easily avoid her _and_ she'd be interfering with important work. So talking to him at the Manor seemed her best option.

Still, she worried. And wondered.

_Well, _she thought as they pulled into the Manor's driveway, the huge building looming almost ominously closer, _too late to turn back now._

Tim only stayed long enough to help her get her things to what was to be her new room, and then he made some excuse about homework and high tailed it out of the mansion like his ass was on fire.

Part of her knew that the possibility of Dick simply throwing her out was very big, but she decided to unpack her things anyway. She decided that she refused to admit defeat, and thus would not be moving out, no matter how angry he got, and unpacking would further strenghten that optimism.

She'd just put away her last article of clothing when Alfred knocked on her half-way opened door.

She pulled it open all the way and smiled sort of nervously at him. Now that she was actually at Wayne Manor and Dick finding out about it became more and more inevitable with every minute, she felt nerves prod at her.

"Lunch is served if you want some, Miss Morgan. Afterwards, I think a tour of the Manor is in place, to introduce you to your future duties."

Morgan smiled gratefully at him and hopped off her bed, which she'd been perched on as she settled books onto the shelf above it.

"Lunch would be great." She agreed. "But I'm not sure a tour of the mansion is necessary. Dick–" She bit down on her lip and ignored the way her chest stung at the memories of better times, "He, uh, he gave me a thorough tour of the place back when we.."

"Back when you spent your last weeks here before your travels, I remember." Alfred finished for her.

She nodded and went back to looking around the place as they walked up and down the huge halls and corridors towards the kitchen.

Upon entering, Alfred briefly explained where everything she'd need for cooking was. He told her he usually did all the cooking, but that he thought she might help him a few nights a week and then eventually cook by herself some nights.

"Since the masters are all very busy, they never do the cooking themselves." He said. "That's one of the many jobs of the housekeeper."

"Housekeeper_s_." Morgan reminded him with a small smile.

"Yes, housekeepers." He agreed, sounding like the prospect of sharing his workload was an all together new experience.

He let Morgan fix herself a sandwich, and she ate it while listening to the list of duties Alfred was assigning her. Slowly, she started to realize that taking care of a huge, old mansion was much more work than she'd originally thought. After the fifth thing he'd rattled off, she asked him to perhaps write it down so she didn't forget anything.

Morgan was a few bites from finishing her sandwich when a new, younger voice interrupted them.

"So, this is the maid."

Morgan turned in her seat and spotted a young boy she instantly recognized as the one she'd met as Robin a few days ago.

She swallowed quickly and put down the rest of her sandwich, brushing her hands against her jeans to rid them of crumbs.

"You must be Damian," She poured as much friendliness into her voice as she could, standing up to offer him her hand. "I'm-"

"I know your name." He brushed her off and fixed her with a superior gaze. His hand were tugged behind his back as he stood ram-rod straight, somehow managing to look down on her despite being much shorter. Morgan dropped her offered hand. "Not that it matters. The only thing I care about is that you stay out of my way, take your duties seriously and take proper care off my father's estate. Since I _am_ the rightful heir."

Morgan raised an eyebrow.

_Charming kid._

"Um." She aimed a look at Alfred who simply looked back at her like, _this is what I have to live with every day, get used to it,_ and then turned back towards Damian.

Normally, Morgan would've responded with some sarcastic or rude remark, especially because _he_ was being very rude himself. But she knew she'd need to get on the kid's good side if she wanted to make sure she got to stay. Dick would want her gone the moment he spotted her, but perhaps if it was four against one, she'd get to stay.

So, instead of her sarcastic reply, she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, looking blankly at him. "Of course, Master Damian."

She hoped to god he didn't detect the way she was fighting to keep back an eye roll.

He studied her with sharp eyes that were far too intelligent for his eleven years, and nodded curtly before slipping out of the room as suddenly and silently as he'd arrived.

She looked at Alfred. "Cute kid."

"The cutest." He agreed in that dry-as-bones way that said more than a half-hour rant could have.

Morgan found herself wringing her hands nervously. "Do you know when Dick'll be here?"

This was the question she'd been dreading to ask since she set foot inside the manor.

"Master Dick is at the office today. I expect him home just in time for dinner."

That was _hours_ away, Morgan realized with a repressed groan.

Hours of jittery nerves and flinching every time she heard someone approach because she'd think it was him.

"In the mean time, you can clean the windows in the library. They're in need of a good wash." Alfred told her.

Morgan nodded eagerly, happily accepting any kind of distraction he had to offer.

"You'll find everything you need in the broom closet." Alfred pointed at the specific closet, nestled in the corner of the room, and Morgan hopped off her seat and walked towards it.

"Do you remember where the library is?" The old butler inquired.

"Oh, sure!" Morgan confidently responded while fishing out a bucket. "I was there plenty of times during my last stay."

Morgan stopped talking and focused on filling the bucket with warm water as she unwittingly recalled what she and Dick had been up to the last time they were in there. She also remembered that Alfred had been the one to interrupt them. That part of the memory still made her cheeks go red with embarrassment.

Chancing a look back at the old butler, who'd started washing a bowl of strawberries – strawberries that Morgan planned to nick a few of tonight – Morgan suddenly felt horribly awkward because of that memory, and ducked out of the room as quickly as possible, bucket , rags and towels in hand.

As she entered the library, Morgan kept her eyes on the floor and hurried towards the windows at the back.

She tried to, anyway. Halfway there, she lost her fight to temptation and looked up, taking in the room. The sun shone through the large windows, casting the whole room in a golden glow. Rows of tall bookshelves were placed strategically throughout the room, some containing new book, some ancient. The place was really big, with walls tall enough to comfortably fit the two floors of bookcases. A staircase next to the big oaken entrance door would've led her to the second level if Morgan hadn't slipped past it and further into the room already.

Morgan set the bucket down on the stone floor and allowed herself to walk along a particular bookcase, her fingers brushing along the spines of the old books.

She reached the end of the long shelf and halted her fingers over a specific book. After hesitating for a small moment, she pulled it out, reading the name on the cover of the reddish-brown leather-bound book.

_Aesop's Fables. _

She remembered this one.

Morgan closed her eyes and momentarily relived the afternoon she'd spent reading it. At that moment, she wished beyond anything that things could go back to the way they'd been. She wished Batman was still alive. She wished Dick was still Nightwing. Still young and hopeful and _happy._ She wished the relationship they'd built, the friendship and the romance, hadn't been completely destroyed.

Morgan pressed her lips together and forced her eyes open, sliding the book into place with sadness clutching at her heart.

Things were the way they were now. And she couldn't change it. Thinking too much about the past would do nothing except make her feel melancholic and hopeless. It was time she stopped feeling sorry for herself and instead started putting _all_ of her energy into changing things as they were.

With that thought in mind, she turned away from the book and walked back to the bucket, picking it and the towels up.

She kept her eyes on the water sloshing about as she walked.

Reaching her destination, she settled the bucket at her feet again, looking up at the tall, arching windows and wondering why she hadn't asked Alfred where they had a ladder. She'd never reach the top of the windows with her petit height, she could barely reach the window sill as it was.

Well, it wasn't like she'd be trying to hide her powers, so Morgan soaked a cloth in the bucket and wrung it, using her telekinesis to float it to the top of the window, moving her hands in large, sweeping motions to rub the wet cloth all over the glass.

She'd gotten the whole window soaked when her concentration was broken, making the cloth fall from the window and land right on top of her face with a _splat_.

Her concentration had been broken by a voice.

A very specific voice.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

For a second, she considered just letting the cloth keep covering her face and pretend she wasn't there, hoping it would make him go away. Then, knowing that was ridculous, she pulled it off and gathered all of her courage before spinning around to face him.

She blinked at Dick; pretty sure she looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Dick, on the other hand, looked like an angry mountain lion, ready to pounce on the defenseless deer and devour it if it offered him the wrong answer.

He was wearing a suit – and looking damn _fit_ in it too – with his hair combed back, looking like he was trying to control his breathing because he was _that_ angry.

Morgan opened her mouth and closed it again.

_He was early_.

She'd rehearsed how this conversation was going to play out _countless _times in her head over the last few days, but she hadn't counted on the ferocity in his gaze or how nervous she'd be.

Dick didn't scare her. Not really. He never had.

But Morgan was so terrified of the consequences, should she fail. What scared her was the prospect of failing and then watching helplessly from the sidelines as he destroyed himself.

"I.. work here." She tried to sound as neutral and _submissive_ as possible, even though submission was the farthest from her personality. She tried to keep her voice the way she hoped would anger him the least. "I'm the new.. Well, I suppose 'maid' is a pretty good term."

Her attempt at a joke apparently didn't humor him.

Dick took a long stride forward and grabbed hold of her forearm, dragging her out of the room without a word.

His grip was like iron and Morgan didn't try to resist it because she knew she'd have no luck getting out of it anyway. She also figured he'd be less annoyed and angry with her if she went along instead of protesting.

So she didn't protest. Didn't say a word. She simply jogged along to keep up with his long strides, trying to ignore that his grip actually hurt quite a bit.

And it was so, _so_ _hard_ to be all meek and quiet and compliant because it just _wasn't_ her.

She had to remind herself that she was doing this for him.

"_ALFRED!"_

She winched at his loud roar, wondering when he'd gotten such a good set of lungs. She couldn't remember him having ever shouted like this back in the day.

The butler emerged from the kitchen right as Dick entered it, the two almost colliding in the doorway.

Morgan, still letting herself get dragged along behind him, met Alfred's eyes, silently begging the old butler to play his part perfectly so she'd get to stay.

"You called, Master Dick?" Alfred appeared entirely unfazed by his master's obvious fury.

"What is _she_ doing here?" Dick seethed, holding Morgan's forearm up as if to make sure they knew which 'she' he was talking about.

"Miss Morgan is the new maid. I hired her this morning." Alfred responded, cool as a cucumber.

Morgan fought the urge to remind Dick that she'd already _told_ him this.

His murderous look stopped her. Now was _so_ not the time to crack jokes.

"When you asked for permission to hire a maid, this was _not_ what I agreed to!" Dick informed his butler.

Alfred looked slightly affronted, like he was insulted by Dick suggesting he had done anything but exactly what they'd agreed to. "Pardon Master Dick, but I don't see the issue. You wanted to be sure the new maid wasn't a threat to your nightly activities. And that they were trustworthy. Miss Morgan fits both criteria."

"_Trustworthy?"_ He spluttered incredulously. "You! Both of you! You set this up to get her into the house. _My_ house!"

"And what would we hope to accomplish by that?" Morgan decided she was tired of him talking like she wasn't in the room. "C'mon Dick, I needed a job and Tim told me you guys were looking for a maid. Would you rather risk some stranger discovered your secrets?

He glared her at, his eyes clearly telling her to _shut up_. Morgan closed her mouth.

"And forgive me for saying this, Master Dick, but Wayne Manor is not yours alone. Both Master Tim and Master Damian share in on it. And Master Tim hired Morgan. You can't throw her out without his consent."

Dick looked like he wanted to bark something nasty at his astoundingly calm butler. His eyes went from Alfred to Morgan and back to Alfred several times, and for a moment he looked a lot like a cornered animal. He was realizing that there was no way out of this.

"_Fine." _He growled out. "But she's _Tim's _maid, not mine. And _you-" _He turned to Morgan and used his grip on her forearm to pull her closer. It was probably meant to be intimidating, but Morgan's heart sped up for an entirely different reason. "You stay out of my way and out of my business. If I see you in the Batcave for any reason at all, you're out, Tim be damned."

Morgan nodded, not quite able to keep the glare off her face.

He searched her eyes for a moment before huffing – Morgan wasn't sure it if was with anger or disbelief or something else – before finally letting to.

Morgan's hand instantly went up to rub at her poorly treated arm, watching as Dick stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

She breathed out deeply and sagged against the island in the middle of the kitchen. "Glad that's over."

Alfred was eyeing the way she kept rubbing at her sore arm, and Morgan instantly dropped it, not wanting him to think that Dick had hurt her.

He _had_, but it was nothing major. She was a superhero, she was used to bruises the size of Alaska.

"He took it far better than I had expected." Alfred admitted.

Morgan shrugged, nodding slightly. "At least I got to stay, huh?"

"Yes."

There was a short pause and then Morgan sighed and smiled fakely at the butler, pushing a curl behind her ear.

"Well," She said as she pushed herself off of the table. "Better get back to those windows."

* * *

Sibling stuff between Dick and Tim next chapter! I know I've been selling Tim's character a bit short so far, but I'm dwelving a bit deeper into his character in the next chapter, so, yay!

So, the highlight of my week was probably getting a PM from REDRydinghood about some fan art she drew of Morgan! And then, when I went to check it out on Deviantart, someone else from the site had commented, saying "oh my god! i love that story!" And I was just like, OMG, someone from an entirely different site recognized the story! I felt like a total celebrity at that moment xD

Fun fact: In the early drafts of this story, I was considering having Morgan return after two years, but with a _child._ Dick's, to be exact. Then, I realized that Morgan not telling him she was pregnant and staying out of the contry for two years with their kid would be very out of character for her. And a douchebag thing to do. Also, I kind of realized that that plot is _very_ cliche, so I quickly scrapped it.


	6. Bruises

**Chapter Six: Bruises**

* * *

July 8th 2016

"Dick?"

"Hmm?"

"You're being really distracting."

She couldn't see his face, but Morgan could tell he was smirking handsomely. "Well, that _was_ the point."

He resumed the lazy circles he was drawing on her hip, slowly making her t-shirt crawl further up her stomach to allow himself better access.

They were sitting in the library on a large, ornate couch. Dick was leaning against the armrest, supporting his chin with one hand as he read over Morgan's shoulder. She was lying against his chest, between his bent legs, reading a book of fables.

Or, well, trying to read. She couldn't really concentrate when his warm, callused fingers on the smooth skin of her hip kept making her shiver and burn in delight.

Eventually, she sighed and snapped the book shut, admitting defeat. Placing it carefully on the couch beside them, she twisted in his embrace so she was facing him now, supporting herself on her forearms against his chest. It was mainly because her breasts would've been pressed very firmly against him if she hadn't created the barrier, and Morgan didn't want to tempt him like that, not in the middle of the library.

His hands automatically came up to hold her hips, his smile growing decidedly triumphant.

"I was trying to read that." She attempted to sound disapproving, but she had the feeling the smile on her face ruined the effect.

"But why would you waste your time on an old, dusty book when there are some many much more exciting things we could be doing?" He tried to sound innocent, but his wicked and insinuating smile spoke differently.

Morgan crawled up just a bit so her face was positioned right above his. Her curls spilled around them, closing them off from the rest of the world. For a moment, their universe consisted of only them and a curtain of blonde curls.

"_Really?_" She hovered just above his lips and Morgan could tell he wanted to close that distance very much. "You got anything particular in mind?"

One of his hands had let go of her hip and was slowly crawling up her back. His touch was light as feathers, but it still made her skin tingle and burn everywhere he went.

The hand was in her hair suddenly, pulling her to him, not that Morgan was complaining.

Instinctively, eagerly, she opened her mouth to him, and he tasted of the lemonade Alfred had brought them half an hour ago.

The hand still on her hip tightened suddenly, and it tickled her enough to make Morgan spasm slightly, her hips accidentally pressing further into his body. The effect was immediate – and unintentional, Morgan suspected – as his own hips moved against her in a way that could only be described as sexual. Unfortunately, it also made the book beside them slip off the couch and fall to the floor.

Morgan pulled away from him immediately at the sound, having though it was the door opening for a short, horrifying moment. She looked down at the book and reached for it, her fingertips grasping hold of the spine as she pulled it up.

"Just leave it." Dick told her, sounding like he'd like to burn that book for its untimely interruption.

She raised an eyebrow at him, feeling her rebellious streak rear its head.

"Nah, I think I'd better return it to its shelf." She grinned cheekily at him and slipped from his embrace before he had the time to protest.

Dick groaned loudly like this was totally unfair of her, and Morgan actually let out a giggle as he threw an arm over his eyes in a 'woe is me' fashion.

She walked away from him, making sure to sway her hips a bit extra when she knew he was looking at her retreating form. It didn't take him long to get off of that couch himself and march after her, which made Morgan duck behind a bookshelf to hide.

Locating the book's original spot a moment later, she slipped it in and took a small step back, grinning in satisfaction as she studied the fine bookshelf and the old, beautiful books.

Just as she took that step back, though, she bumped into something tall, firm and very much human.

Dick closed his arms around her waist from behind and leaned down.

"You really shouldn't try to out-sneak a bat-kid." He whispered in her ear, his warm breath traveling down her neck, making Morgan shiver.

She leaned her head against his chest and smiled with her eyes closed. "Maybe I wasn't trying to sneak away. Maybe I brought you back here on purpose to give us a bit of privacy."

Dick turned her in his grasp and had claimed her lips before Morgan even had the chance to reopen her eyes.

She let out a low hum in approval, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck and standing up on her toes to reach him better.

In a fluid and effortless movement, Dick reached down and grabbed hold of her hips again, pulling her off of the ground. Morgan let her legs wrap around his muscular form and dug her fingers into his dark hair, liking this new change in positions. Dick's hands left her hips and travelled up her sides – this time underneath her shirt.

As if to offer extra support so she didn't accidentally fall off of him, he backed them up against a bookshelf. He was a bit too eager and the wooden frame rattled for a second, a few books slipping from their place and onto the stone floor. He took a small step back so she wasn't squished. Morgan felt the spines of the books dig into her folded wings, but the pressure was very light and, honestly, with his wandering hands on her body, she didn't think about it for very long.

A loud cough broke the two teenagers from each other quite suddenly, and they turned to look at the end of the small bookshelf-made corridor, finding Alfred there with a disapproving but otherwise carefully blank face.

"Uhm," Dick sort of gaped at the butler as if he wasn't ready to admit that he was really there.

They must've looked a sight with their mussed-up hair, swollen lips, heavy breaths and rumpled clothes.

He took a step back from the bookshelf and let Morgan's bare feet touch the floor again. The two of them took a larger step away from each other to create distance and shuffled around guiltily. Morgan blushed viciously and pulled her t-shirt down – it had gotten bunched up right underneath her bra during Dick's exploring.

They'd just been caught making out quite heavily in the library.

By Dick's butler.

_How mortifying._

Alfred cleared his throat and aimed an unimpressed look at them. "I believe such activities should be kept private, perhaps behind closed bedroom doors, don't you think?"

Morgan's eyes, which had been aimed at the floor in front of them because she was too embarrassed and cowardly to look the older man in the eye, widened comically, but other than that, she didn't react.

"Private. Bedroom." Dick sounded like he was somewhere between amusement, disbelief and mortification himself as he scratched the back of his neck with one hand and dug the other into his jean pocket. "Got it."

Alfred nodded his approval and sent them one last '_I see everything'_ look before he left again. The sound of the large, oaken door closing behind him rung out in the completely silent library. Neither teenager moved for several seconds after that.

"Holy shit." Morgan breathed out, not quite willing to acknowledge what had just happened. She heard Dick let out a small, amused snort and turned her head to face him. It was obvious that he was fighting to keep in his laughter.

Upon seeing his face, so was Morgan. Their eyes twinkled merrily for a few seconds before they broke the silence surrounding them with their loud guffaws.

"That was horrible!" Morgan breathed out between laughs.

Dick nodded his agreement, still chuckling. "Absolutely mortifying."

"I've never been so embarrassed in my life!" Morgan squeaked and hid her red face behind her hands.

Dick grabbed hold of her wrists and pulled her hands from her face, smiling _lovingly_ at her. "Don't be. Alfred can take it."

She wanted to groan and protest and hide in the library forever so she never had to face the elderly man again, but Dick reached down and kissed the tip of her nose adorably, and suddenly she didn't care as much anymore.

* * *

June 9th

He was going to _keelhaul_ Tim when he came home. Dick didn't give a shit. He'd go buy himself a literal pirate ship and a pool full of sharks, and then he'd keelhaul Tim. He had set this entire thing up. Well, Dick was pretty sure Morgan had been just as involved with the planning as Tim, but Dick wasn't about to murder his ex.

He couldn't promise anything when it came to his younger brother, though. For some reason, the kid had gotten the idea that Morgan could somehow 'fix' him.

Dick let out a grunt as he launched himself off of the rod he'd been doing pull ups from for the past ten minutes, landing nimbly on the lower one behind him, hanging by his knees. He started doing upside down pushups now, trying to expel his anger through his exercises.

He didn't need fixing.

And he didn't need Morgan.

The doors to the gym opened and Dick ignored whoever had entered, keeping up his rapid pushups, sweat soaking through his hair and clothes.

"She is Sparrow, isn't she?"

He did two extra pushups, just to gain the calm he needed to face Damian right now.

Landing on his feet, he turned and faced the younger boy, who was standing by the door, watching Dick with sharp eyes.

"The new maid." Damian went on. "She is the superhero we met two nights ago."

Dick blinked at the young boy, once again surprised and impressed by his level of intelligence and detection.

"How did you know?"

"Your anger gave it away." Damian said with an airy, arrogant matter-of-fact tone. "It was the same as when you met Sparrow. And her body type and looks match up as well."

Dick wasn't even surprised that he had witnessed the argument in the kitchen. He hadn't actually noticed the young boy, but Damian had a way of sneaking about undetected.

"The only thing that confuses me is how she hides her wings." Damian admitted. He fixed Dick with a stern look, fully expecting him to explain.

"Glamour charm." Dick answered shortly, not willing to tell Damian that the silver and blue necklace she wore, which had been a gift from _him_ on her nineteenth birthday, had a magical enchantment on it that hid her wings from sight.

He breezed past the young boy, wondering why he couldn't be _left in peace_. Everywhere he went; it seemed someone sought him out.

Perhaps he'd be able to get a bit of privacy in his room. He needed time to _think_.

As he marched down the hall with long, aggressive strides, he almost bumped into Alfred. He would've sighed with annoyance because _again_ with the lack of privacy, but he actually needed to talk to the butler.

Dick halted his strides right beside Alfred, not looking at the older man as he spoke. Not because he was embarrassed, but because he was still angry and felt betrayed by him.

_He wouldn't have done this if it had been Bruce._

"Which room did you give her?"

Alfred looked at Dick, but the younger man pressed his lips together firmly and stared straight ahead emotionlessly.

"The renovated servant's quarters. In the eastern wing."

Dick frowned at the ornate window at the end of the hall, his mind briefly at war with itself.

"Put her in the room between mine and Tim's. If she'd really going to be staying here, I want to be able to keep an eye on her."

"Master Dick, you do realize that the room between yours and Master Tim's used to be –"

"I know it used to be Jason's." Dick snapped. He sighed harshly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "But Jason isn't using it anymore. Just do it."

Alfred studied him again, and Dick finally met his eyes, trying to keep his face a blank mask.

Even so, Alfred must've seen something on his featires or in his eyes, because an unidentifiable look overcame the housekeepr's face for a moment and then he nodded.

"Very well, Master Dick."

Alfred sounded so tired, Dick actually felt a throb of guilt in his chest. He hid in his room after that, sitting silently on his bed and hoping he would be able to hear when Tim cam home so he could give him his totally deserved chewing out. Two hours later, once dinner time was approaching rapidly, he heard the youthful voice of his younger brother. The boy was on the phone, but he sounded nervous – at least for the small moment Dick was able to hear him before he disappeared into his own room, the two doors between them muffling his voice completely.

Dick sat for a second, breathing deeply through his nose, before he got off the bed and left his room. Part of him suspected Tim would flee out of his window if he heard Dick coming, so the young man snuck soundlessly towards his door. He grasped the handle of the door firmly in his grip, taking in one long, calming breath, his eyes closed. Then, quick as lightning, he wrenched the door open and charged into the room, slamming it shut behind him again to cut off the potential get-away route for Tim.

"TIM!" Was all he could think to say, watching as his younger brother gulped loudly.

"I'll have to call you back," He told the person on the phone before ending the call and dropping his phone onto his bed. The two ex-robins eyed each other, Dick ready to pursue and Tim ready to flee.

Then, instead of running away like Dick had expected him to, Tim just sighed and sat on the edge of his bed, looking at his clenched hands.

"So I guess you found out already, huh?"

For a moment, his sad monotone threw Dick off balance, but he quickly relocated his anger and latched onto it again, frowning as he approached his brother.

"Damn right I did," He growled out, "What do you think you're doing? Inviting _her_ into the house? _Without_ my permission!"

Tim sighed harshly and ran a hand through his unkept hair, still not really looking at Dick. "I'm sorry I went behind your back, okay? I know you're mad, and you probably have every right to be, but.. But I just wanted to help!"

"Letting Morgan work at the Manor isn't going to help in any way at all," Dick snapped.

"C'mon Dick, you know this isn't about the Manor.. She – she helped you a lot after Wally died, so I thought maybe.. Maybe she could help now, too." Tim defended his actions.

"Tim, she helped because _we were in a relationship._ I had feelings for her. That's why her presence helped!" Dick groaned out in frustration, annoyed that Tim wasn't _getting it._ Dick truly didn't want Morgan around – he was pretty sure she was going to do the exact opposite of helping.

"And you don't anymore?" Tim shot back, finally turning to look at Dick, his blue eyes sharp and intelligent.

Dick returned his gaze stonily. "No." His voice was completely flat, evoid of emotion as he spoke. "No, I don't."

Tim sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and nodded to himself, looking out his window. "Still.. You need help, Dick. And I'm getting desperate. You're destroying yourself out of grief – and I've barely even had time to grieve myself because I've had to look out for you." Tim looked at him again, looking truly lost and devastated.

Dick felt like _such_ an asshole. He felt all fight leave his body as he slowly walked over and took a seat on the mattress next to the teenager. Sighing deeply, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, staring out of Tim's window as well. It was a beautiful sunset, the clouds orange and pink, the sky purple.

"Tim.. Morgan can't 'fix' me.." Dick eventually sighed. This was probably the first time he'd – however vaguely – admitted that maybe he _was_ broken.

Tim nodded, stilll chewing on his lower lip. He was blinking rapidly. "I know," His voice sounded choked, "But dammit, Dick, I had to do something. I – I just lost Bruce.. I _can't_ lose you too."

Oh _god_ did Dick feel like an asshole.

"I miss him so much," Tim said between harsh breaths, stubbornly rubbing at his eyes to force away his tears. "Some-sometimes I swear I know he's still alive. That he's out there somewhere, just _waiting_ for me to find him. And I want to find him so bad, but then I'd have to leave this place – and then I wouldn't be able to look after you either."

Dick sighed harshly and ran a hand through his hair, ruining what had been left of the neat hairdo he'd donned for the office. "Dammit Tim, stop thinking that _everything_ is your responsibility. It's _not._ You're _sixteen,_ for christ's sake. I'm not your responsibility. And neither is finding Bruce – which you can't.. He's dead. I _watched_ him die."

Tim's fists clenched in his lap, his eyes flashing at Dick's words. "You're wrong. You could be wrong. He could still be.. still be alive. Somehwere. We just have to find-"

"Tim, we burried his body!" Dick protested as he stood up, needing his brother to understand. Fooling himself into thinking Bruce was still alive would only end up hurting Tim more than he already was. Dick needed Tim to face and accept the truth – no matter how harsh it might've been.

"How do we know that was actually him, huh?" Tim retaliated, standing up as well, his face drawn into an angry mask.

"Tim, listen to me," Dick said firmly, his voice low and dangerous. "Bruce. Is. Dead. You can't bring him back. Nothing can. He's gone!"

Tim was breathing heavily and he looked ready to murder someone, but tears were leaking from his eyes and down his face.

Dick realized he'd done more damage than he'd fixed. With a sigh, he took a stumbling step back – it had cut through him like a knife to repeat the reality of their situation. Bruce was dead, dead, deaddeaddead..

"She can stay." Dick eventually sighed, hoping to somehow right the wrongs he'd just committed. He'd let Tim get his way, if only to apologize for his cruelty. "But it won't change anything."

Then he slipped from Tim's room, closing the door silently behind him. He stood, leaning against the wooden frame for a moment, breathing deeply.

On the other side of the door, a hurt, angry roar and the sound of a vase colliding with the wall and splintering into a thousand pieces could be heard.

* * *

June 13th

The restaurant was loud, filled with people and Morgan was pretty sure the kid at the table behind her was shooting peas at her hair, but she didn't care.

Compared to the angry silence and just all around uncomfortable tension at Wayne Manor, the liveliness and laughter at the place was extremely relaxing.

Barbara didn't seem to agree with her entirely. The red head glared at the teenage boy who'd been sending her rude and suggestive gestures for five minutes now, sighing harshly before turning towards her two friends again.

"This place blows." She grumbled. "I say we leave before the waiter comes back with our food and find somewhere quieter."

Morgan shook her head. "No. After three days of horrible silence, I'm _so_ enjoying the noise."

M'gann looked at her sympathetically. "Is it really that bad?"

"You don't know half of it." Morgan groaned out. "He _glares_ every time I happen to be in his line of sight, and if I happen to _breathe_ too loudly, he'll snap at me and tell me to get out of his way. I swear, I could've cried with relief when you asked me out for a girls' afternoon."

The two gingers rolled their eyes. "We always knew Dick was a stubborn one." M'gann sighed. "Which is why we got hold of the only person we know who is more stubborn."

Morgan wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult.

Perhaps it was neither.

"And I promise I'm doing my best. But I'm not a miracle worker." Morgan played around with the straw in her coke, slumping in her chair. "What if.. what if we can't change him?"

"We've got no choice but to try, don't we?" Barbara pointed out, sighing.

Their food arrived then, Barbara grumbling about it because they didn't leave while they still could.

Morgan cracked a smile at her complains as she shrugged off her leather jacket and draped it over her chair.

She was wearing a simple t-shirt underneath, so she didn't understand why the two girls both paused visibly at the sight of her bare arms.

".. what?" She asked slowly.

"Morgan.. did he give you that?" M'gann pointed at Morgan's arm. It took Morgan a moment to catch on, but as soon as she looked down and peered at the hand-print shaped bruise on her forearm, she wished she'd kept on her jacket.

"Um." She shrugged, trying to seem casual about it. "Well, yeah, but it wasn't on purpose. He didn't know he was hurting me."

Barbara looked sharply at her, her green eyes calculating. "He's not beating you, is he?"

Morgan gaped at her two friends for a second before regaining her wits. "Oh, come _on_ you guys, you're looking at me like I'm in an abusive relationship or something. It was _nothing_ like that."

"Well, what was it like, then?" M'gann asked next.

"He was just surprised and angry to see me, so he dragged me down the hall to find Alfred. He didn't do it on purpose."

Her friends exchanged worried glances.

Morgan rolled her eyes, extremely fed up by this topic of conversation. "Guys, it's _me_." She pointed out. "You know if any guy tried to hurt me, _seriously_ hurt me, I'd kick his ass into the next century."

Once again, Barbara and M'gann looked at each other. Morgan got the feeling they were having a mental conversation that she wasn't included in.

"Well, as long as you're sure.." M'gann eventually gave in.

"I'm _sure_. He's not gonna hurt me."

He _was_ going to drive her crazy, though. She was pretty sure of that. Morgan wasn't a 'calm' and 'collected' kind of person, but she'd have to be for the upcoming weeks. Anger and arguing so obviously didn't sway him one bit, even though that's how she used to deal with him.

"Anyway, enough about me." She quickly said before the others could ask anything else. Honestly, she'd said yes to hanging out because she really needed to get away from the manor and all of those _males._ And now the others only seemed to want to talk about the Wayne boys. It was annoying.

Morgan trained her eyes onto M'gann, changing the topic quickly. "Let's talk about something else. M'gann, you're getting married!" She tried to sound all excited and enthusiastic, at least to convince her two friends that nothing was wrong.

M'gann smiled widely and let out a small squeal. "I know!"

The girls were successfully distracted, and Morgan settled comfortably in her chair, smiling as she listened to M'gann's very thorough retelling of Connor proposing.

"I'm telling you, it was so romantic." M'gann sighed dreamily.

Morgan smirked slightly. Connor wasn't exactly the poster boy for being romantic and emotional, and she got the feeling he hadn't actually come up with the proposal all by himself.

Seriously, the whole drawing inspiration from how proposals were done on Mars? And flying them to a large, beautiful lake in the middle of a peaceful forest during a full moon? Nah, way to sappy for it to have been Connor's brainchild.

Barbara winked at her and shifted smugly in her seat, and Morgan knew the other red head had definitely had a hand in this.

"So, when's the wedding going to be?" Morgan asked next.

M'gann shrugged. "We haven't decided yet. With the superhero business and Connor working on that degree, we don't have a lot of time to plan it. But we've agreed that we want a winter wedding."

"And don't bother, I've already called dibs on Maid of Honor." Barbara announced, reclining back in her chair comfortably. She frowned. "Now I just need to find a date."

Morgan rolled her eyes and let out a small snort. "You should ask Dick. He could use a bit of fresh air." She regretted what she'd said as soon as the words left her mouth because she'd _just_ gotten the others to stop talking about him and now she was bringing him up herself. What the hell.

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "Nah, he's going to be _your_ date." She said without a shred of doubt.

Morgan grimaced. "You guys, just because the two of us used to date doesn't mean we will again. It's in the past."

M'gann and Barbara exchanged looks.

"A lot can happen in six months." Barbara reminded her. She checked her watch then and straightened in her chair. "Gotta go." She gulped down the rest of her soft drink and stood up, throwing the correct amount of dollar bills onto the table. "I've got a class in forty minutes."

M'gann and Morgan waved goodbye, the blonde feeling jealousy briefly wash over her. M'gann was getting married and Barbary was busy with college, already top of her class. She was going to be an amazing lawyer when she was done.

And Morgan was spending her days cleaning a dusty mansion and arguing with her ex. Not exactly the promises of a bright future.

They parted ways two hours later. Morgan drove back to the mansion in one of the Wayne family's cars, which Alfred had generously let her borrow for the day. She was pretty sure it was the car the boys had used for training when they were getting their driver's license, because it was old and not even close to being as fancy as the other cars in the garage. Alfred had said she could use any of the cars, but honestly, she wasn't the best driver and she didn't want to risk damaging any of their expensive ones. She could only imagine Dick's hissy fit if she did.

Arriving back at the Manor, Morgan absentmindedly parked the car, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to really take much note of the action.

So far, Dick had been moody and unpleasant every time she saw him – which wasn't much because he rarely emerged from the Batcave or his study. And Morgan, out of fear of annoying him so much that he finally threw her out, had stayed quiet and uncharacteristically meek.

But that sort of behavior wasn't going to change _anything_. If she wanted to change Dick, she'd have to start with changing the overall mood in the Manor. The place was silent and serious – grave – like Bruce Wayne's funeral was still going on somewhere on the estate.

She needed to get a hold of that underlying tension that reverberated throughout the entire house and uproot it completely. Bring back laughter and happiness. She wasn't just helping Dick anymore. She was helping the entire family.

And she'd start by stopping her silent compliance. They were going to get over his death and become happy again if it was the last thing she did.

Morgan wasn't going to stand by and let her two friends, their butler, and their kind of weird, kind of scary little brother soak in sorrow anymore.

* * *

As the author, I'm actually myself starting to wonder if Morgan is biased because this is Dick they're talking about. Or maybe the bruise really wasn't that bad. Maybe she bruises easily?

Also, I hope that first scene made the currently reality seem all the more painful for all of ya'll. It certainly did for me. My babies used to be so cute and happy and now they grown up and serious and unhappy and uuugh. My sweetlings. My OTP is suffering, and I've got no one to blame but me.

This author is suffering, but, like, in a good way. I hope I'm not the only one.

On a different note, I can't believe this story already has over 200 reviews! We're only five chapters in (minus this one). You guys are so awesome!

Fun fact: I'm very seriously thinking about writing that Soulmate!AU oneshot I talked about on the tumblr page. I love the idea.


	7. Old Model

**Chapter Seven: Old Model**

* * *

June 14th

Morgan was pretty sure she had cocoa powder and flour in her hair – and probably all over her clothes and face too – but that didn't matter.

Her masterpiece was _finished._

The timer beeped and Morgan practically fluttered across the room, smiling giddily, to turn it off.

Then, she stuffed her hands into a pair of oven mittens and opened the oven to pull out her cake.

She swore she was going to brighten this place up – and nothing brightened people's moods quite as much as cake did. Especially when it was a _damn _good cake. And if there was one thing Morgan had a talent for, it was baking.

The smell that came from the oven and filled the room was heavenly. She suspected it would carry from the room and to other parts of the house soon enough. Perhaps she wouldn't have to worry about getting the guys cake. Maybe they'd come by themselves.

She placed the baking tray on the stove to let it cool. As the cake cooled off, she set about cleaning. She was really good at baking, the only problem was that she tended to completely trash the kitchen in the process.

She'd finished most of the dishes, and was in the process of wiping the counters and the island so she could sweep the floor, when the scent of the cake must've lured someone into entering the kitchen.

Looked behind her, she smiled pleasantly at the short boy with the serious face. Titus the dog entered the kitchen ahppily before him, approaching Morgan and letting her pet his soft fur.

"Hey, Damian." She greeted pleasantly.

He seemed distracted, which was probably the only reason he wasn't snapping at her to not address him so informally.

"Jourgenson." He responded shortly, horribly mispronouncing her surname. Morgan didn't understand why he seemed to find it so difficult to pronounce – Alfred could say it perfectly. And Tim and Dick got it somewhat right, too. She could tell Damian wasn't doing the mispronunciation on purpose, which was probably the only reason she wasn't teasing him about it.

She could see him sniff the air once, and then his eyes latched onto the cake, sitting innocently on the counter.

"Want some?" She offered, already digging through one of their drawers to locate a knife.

He didn't respond, which usually meant yes. If he didn't want any, he would've let her know with some unpleasant remark. Instead of saying anything, the boy walked over and sat down at the island, folding his hands in his lap as he waited. Titus left Morgan's side to loyaly sit by his owner.

Morgan pulled out the knife she'd been looking for, and walked over to the cake. She poked at it with a finger, finding it pleasantly warm, but not burning. It was the perfect temperature.

She cut a small corner piece off for herself first. Damian frowned at her when she proceeded to eat instead of giving him some, and Morgan held up a pacifying hand.

"I'm just checking to make sure I didn't screw something up. Consider me the test animal." She explained before stuffing the small piece into her mouth.

Morgan had to stop herself from letting out the sort of moan the boy was much too young to hear. This tasted _good._

"Oh man, that's nice." She complimented herself happily. Walking across the room, she reached into the cupboards with plates and pulled out two. Next, she cut out two large servings of the cake and walked back to the silently waiting boy.

She placed a fork next to his plate, knowing he liked to eat 'properly'.

Morgan didn't care about those sorts of proprieties as she picked up her own piece and bit into it with enthusiasm. Damian approached his serving with more suspicion than she had. He got a tiny piece onto the fork and chewed it slowly, his face drawn into that serious frown it always had.

After a few seconds, the frown smoothed out somewhat, and he took a second, much bigger bite.

Morgan smirked behind her own cake. He might've been serious and generally unpleasant and acted very mature for his age, but he _was_ just a kid. And kids couldn't resist sugar.

The sweet peace offering must've been good enough for him to tolerate her company. Morgan had tried to sit at the table and eat at the same time as him once before, and it hadn't gone well. He'd hissed at her that the workers didn't eat with their masters.

Well, this time it seemed it was okay, as long as she provided him with chocolate cake. And Morgan wasn't above a little bit of bribing.

"You're Sparrow." Damian said suddenly, after two full minutes of silence.

His words made her choke on cake.

Coughing roughly, she freed her throat from crumbs. "Uh. Yeah."

Honestly, she hadn't exactly attempted to hide it. The boy was clever – he'd have caught on pretty fast anyway. It was more the no-nonsense out-of-the-blue way he'd said it that surprised her.

"And you're here to make Grayson better?" He clarified next.

Was she really so shit at being a maid that the boy had decided it couldn't possibly be why she was really here? _Okay_, so maybe she wasn't as thorough as Alfred, but she did her best!

She was tempted to ask him if she was really that bad at vacuuming, but Morgan could tell Damian was being serious – then again, when _wasn't_ he? – and expected an equally serious answer.

Morgan sighed and put her cake down. She'd been feeling so pleasantly carefree for the past hour, and now the kid had gone and brought up the one thing that could always ruin her mood.

"I guess that depends on what you mean by 'make better'." She admitted. "I.. well, I want to stop him from running himself into the ground. He wanted him to be himself again. I want him to stop hurting. I want to help."

Morgan didn't think she could 'make him better', though. She fully believe it was a change he had to make himself. She just figured he'd need a bit of.. nudging, from an outside source.

He nodded and fiddled with his fork, looking thoughtful. "That _is_ what I mean by 'better', idiot."

"Then, yes, I'm here to make him better. I'll certainly try my best."

Damian took another forkful and chewed on it slowly. Morgan stayed in her spot, aware that the boy had more to say. He hadn't 'dismissed' her yet, so she stayed put.

"I will admit, Grayson was a pain before he became Batman. But now, even though he is more tolerable, he is.. unhappy." Damian went on, seemingly weighing his words. Morgan wondered if that was because he was trying to figure out how to properly express his feelings, or if it was because he didn't want to sound _too_ attached. God forbid she'd think he had emotions.

Morgan was completely silent, afraid he'd stop talking if she said anything.

"Drake seems completely convinced that _you_ can make Grayson happy again." Damian shot her a sharp look, almost daring her to fail at helping Dick, while also looking like he didn't have much faith in her, personally. "I must say, I've usually not a lot of confidence in his half-brained plans. The boy is an idiot most of the time. But he seems at least partly correct in his assumption."

"Really?" Morgan blurted out before she could help it. "I was convinced I just made him angrier. Dick, I mean."

Damian glared angrily at her, obviously not pleased with her interruption. Morgan immediately clammed up again.

"He is angrier, yes. But before, he wasn't angry. He was emotionless. A machine. Numb." Damian explained. "As annoying as it can be, his anger is a positive sign."

"Oh." Morgan hadn't thought of it like that. But she supposed it made sense. Back when her dad had died, Morgan had gone numb too. And the numbness had made her act stupidly. It wasn't until her fight with Nightwing and her emotions were rebooted that she began to think rationally. And then she'd quickly become herself again. Maybe this was a bit of the same. Only at a much larger scale because Dick had been a hell of a lot closer with Bruce than Morgan and Henrik had been.

Damian finished off the chocolate-ly treat and then stood up. He made to leave the kitchen, but paused in the doorway.

"If you promise to do what you can to help him, I will do what I can to assist you." He informed her stiffly, sounding like offering his help wasn't something he did, _ever._

Morgan nodded blankly at him, not sure how to respond to the usually malicious boy's sudden niceness.

Damian left the kitchen immediately afterwards, leaving Morgan with the impression that he'd come here just to say this. Perhaps the cake hadn't lured him after all.

Morgan finished cleaning the kitchen, hurriedly sweeping the floor, before leaving with two new plates of cake, searching for Tim.

She found him in his room, lying on his bed with textbooks and papers sprawled around him. He was chewing on a pencil, pausing only to write something down before placing the end in his mouth again.

Tim looked up at her knocking on his already open door. Morgan had noticed the boy preferred his door to stay open when he was in the room, only closing it when he needed a bit of privacy.

"Cake." She offered, and he instantly perked up at the sight.

He accepted the plate with a smile, and Morgan pushed a paper to the side so she could sit on the edge of the bed. For a short, hilarious moment, she felt like an actual mom offering her kid a snack during homework. "Whatcha doing?"

"History project." He responded behind a mouthful of chocolate cake. "This is _good_. You made it?"

Morgan nodded proudly.

It was pretty obvious Tim was in his 'school' mindset, because only a few seconds later, he seemed to forget she was even there. Morgan herself had been pretty good at losing herself in her school work, but she was nowhere near Tim's level.

She grinned slightly and rolled her eyes before getting off the bed and leaving the room. Tim offered her a small word of farewell, but his eyes never strayed from his papers.

Morgan knew Dick wasn't home yet, so she headed for the study to leave the second plate of cake there. Maybe he'd be more inclined to eat it if he didn't know it was from her. And by maybe, she meant definitely.

With a small huff of breath that was almost a laugh, Morgan wondered at her maternal behavoir. Maybe the whole maid thing had kickstarted some sides of her she previously hadn't known existed.

* * *

Sparrow supposed simply flying across the city was a much more effective way to patrol it. It would offer her a better view and make it easier to get around faster. But she found she much preferred to travel by rooftop, which probably had more to do with how she'd been trained than anything else. Her mentor hadn't had the power of flight, so she'd been taught how to get around by roof instead. And now it had become a habit.

She jumped off the edge of a roof and floated across the small expanse towards the next one, landing smoothly before running across it. Below her, she spotted a group of suspicious looking guys. Several of they had bats and other blunt weapons, and they walked in the tense, resolved way people on a mission did. They seemed to have nothing good planned, so she made the decision to follow them as they turned the corner.

Seriously, only in Gotham did criminals feel comfortable enough to walk around with their weapons in plain sight.

Sparrow darted across the room just in time to see the small group meet up with another one, which was just as mean looking.

The two gangs seemed weigh each other mentally, trying to determine weak points and the best way to approach.

One guy from each group emerged, walking across the no-man's-land between them, meeting in the middle.

She was too far away to hear the words exchanged, but not to see that the conversation was going south. A barked order from the leader of the first group sent the two gangs charging for each other.

"Guess I'm breaking up gang fights tonight.." She sighed before jumping off the building and floating to the ground, landing in a crouch next to the two groups.

"_Hey_!" She yelled, whistling sharply to gain the attention of the fighting groups.

Miraculously, the shrill whistle actually managed to turn all heads to her, stopping the fighting.

"_Right." _She said in her best 'mom' voice. "I think we all know how this is gonna end, so why don't we just skip the part where you attack me and I beat you up, and then everyone can go home peacefully?"

Several of the thugs exchanged looks, like they weren't sure if they should accept her offer.

"Get her!" Both leaders shouted at the same time, and six of the men immediately charged for her.

Sparrow sighed and rolled her eyes. "I swear, one day somebody is going to accept that offer."

She'd barely finished her words when she launched herself at the nearest thug, wrapping her thighs around his neck. She grabbed onto the shoulders of a second, taller attacker, using him as leverage to twist her body and throw the guy trapped between her thighs to the ground some feet away. He landed on his back, all air knocked out of him.

Next, she launched herself over the shoulder of the man she'd been holding on to, kicking the guy behind him square in the face.

It went on for some time, until every single croon lay in various stages of pain and unconsciousness by her feet.

At this point, only the two gang leaders were standing. Morgan dusted off her hands theatrically and looked at them.

"So," She began conversationally. "Mind telling me what this was all about?"

A second passed by in complete silence, and then the two men bolted in each their own direction.

"Thought not.." Sparrow sighed, aiming a hand at each man. Grabbing mental hold of them, she made them hover a foot above ground to prevent them from running, and brought them back towards her. Their legs were kicking out comically as they tried to regain control of their bodies.

Morgan pulled out the cell phone she used as Sparrow to call the police, letting them know she had a dozen knocked out criminals waiting to be picked up.

Twenty minutes later – she had to give the police credit for their efficiency – she was on the roof tops again, smirking to herself. Commissioner Gordon had been incredibly happy to see the men she'd caught for them. Apparently, the two 'gangs' had been responsible for quite a lot of property damage and just plain making the streets unsafe in that neighborhood.

A small part of Morgan had been worried about going on patrols in Gotham. She'd told Batman that he didn't get to call dibs on an entire city, but she hadn't been sure if Gotham and the police felt the same way. Many people considered the city Batman's territory, and had been satisfied with that. She couldn't be sure they'd want another superhero. The everyday citizen that didn't engage in any illegal activities took great pride in being under Batman's protection. He was one of the greatest superheroes of all time, after all.

Compared to that, Sparrow was a bit of a nobody. Not to mention that she was a small, blonde female. Next to a 'strong, intimidating and ultra masculine' guy like Batman, a lot of people were probably going to say she didn't belong. That she wasn't capable.

Morgan was aware that she was a woman trying to make it in a man's world. And a place like Gotham, which had never had an independent, female superhero was probably not going to be happy about it in the beginning. They'd had Batgirl, sure, but she'd been a Batman sidekick, which gave her more of a free pass.

But the police had been happy to see Sparrow. And in the end, Morgan didn't do what she did to gain anyone's approval. She did it to help her city.

Morgan remembered Nightwing telling her about how unpopular Batman had been in the beginning, how even the police had considered him a criminal. Dick had explained how it hadn't bothered Batman. He wasn't there to be popular, he was there to change his city for the better.

Morgan could really respect that. And she was determined to work with the same kind of mindset.

Wanting a bit of a better view, Morgan took off into the air, heading for one of the city's tallest buildings.

Coincidently, Wayne Enterprises was nearest, and Morgan steered towards it. She could only imagine how much it'd annoy Dick if he knew she was using the building as a look out post. He was already annoyed that she was patrolling in _his_ city, she picture his face when he realized she was using a building that was also his.

Or, well, Morgan _thought_ it belonged to him. He was the CEO of the company, right?

She landed on the small outcropping right before the roof started arching into a peak, her feet dangling over the side.

She sat for a moment, simply enjoying the view of the city. For once, it wasn't raining, and the wind was no more than a pleasant breeze, tickling the small curls framing her face.

During her fight with the two gangs, several long strands had managed to escape her braid, so Morgan slipped the hair band off and undid her braid.

"I had heard you were back in town."

Morgan jumped slightly in her seat, looking to her side to identify the owner of the voice.

"Hey, Blue." She answered pleasantly, surprised, forgetting all about redoing her braid.

Blue Beetle emerged from the shadows he'd been partly hiding in, returning her smile. "Sparrow. Nice outfit."

Morgan fingered the side of her cape, watching it flap lightly in the breeze. "Thanks. Had an upgrade."

He sat down next to her.

"You, however, look the same. Taller, but that's not exactly a surprise." She quickly assessed him. "What brings you to Gotham? Not exactly your usual hunting grounds."

"Impulse and Beast Boy have been nagging me to get you to come to the Watchtower."

Sparrow raised an eyebrow. "You're here to kidnap me?" She joked.

She was surprised at how deep his voice had gotten. Everyone she'd met so far had changed a lot, but Blue most of all. Not just his height and voice, but also his bearing. It was obvious that becoming the leader of the Team had matured the boy a lot.

Shared leadership, anyway. Him and Red Robin worked together. To Morgan, the two of them were the only logical choice. Once all the eldest members of the Team had moved on to the Justice League, the two boys had naturally stepped into their leader roles. From what Morgan had heard, they were really good at it too. The Team had actually managed to go on several covert missions _without_ blowing shit up.

"Something like that." He admitted, shrugging and grinning.

Morgan was flattered that the two boys had apparently been excited to meet her to the point of nagging their team leader. She supposed visiting the Team should've been one of her first priorities, but she'd avoided it for a bit. Two years of relative inactivity had made her sloppy. She'd kept her fighting up to date by attending all sorts of classes, but the crime fighting, 'life threatening missions' thing was the part she'd forgotten. So she'd avoided the League and the Team at least until she'd re-honed her skills.

But she figured, if she could beat up a dozen gang members at the same time, she could consider herself good enough for a small visit.

"_Well,_ we shouldn't disappoint the two of them, should we?" Sparrow smirked. "Lead the way."

Blue pushed off the roof and flew off, Morgan following closely behind.

"So, any new members since I left?" She asked him as they flew the short distance towards the nearest Zeta tube.

"A few. You'll meet them when we get there. Everybody's in tonight." Blue responded, and Morgan wished he'd have given her some names. Maybe she'd know who he was talking about.

"Not for me, I hope." She joked, even though she really meant it. The possibility of Morgan dying of embarrassment if everyone had showed up just to see her was certainly there. Having people make a fuss out of her was probably one of the things she hated the most.

"Nah, they were on a mission. Finished right when I left, so they'll probably be there a few minutes before us." He explained.

They landed by a Zeta tube, disguised as a telephone booth, and Blue motioned for Morgan to go first.

Taking a deep breath to mentally prepare herself, Morgan stepped through the tube. Her mind went blank for a few seconds, and then she was standing on a platform in the Watchtower. Blue appeared next to her a moment later.

Morgan's eyes traced the room they were in, finding it both foreign and familiar. She'd only been to the Watchtower a handful of times, and since that was two years ago, her memories of the place were a bit hazy.

Blue Beetle led the way as they left the room and headed for the main room of the tower. Morgan kept up her scanning, wanting to bring her mental image of the place up to date. A place such as this needed to stay constantly ahead of times, technology-wise, so Morgan wasn't surprised when there were several machines and unidentifiables she couldn't recognize.

Sparrow walked slowly deliberately, knowing this was probably the last quiet moment she'd get for the rest of her evening. A small part of her didn't feel at all ready to see the Team again. She'd left them for two years.. Some of them were bound to feel betrayed by that, right? Or would they just be indifferent, not caring about the girl that was with them for less than a year and then disappeared for much longer?

Maybe they'd be that horribly mix that Dick was. When he wasn't indifferent, he was angry.

_Stop thinking about it._

She told herself to stop being stupid and melodramatic. Impulse and Beast Boy had literally been _nagging_ Blue Beetle about getting her to visit. If that wasn't a good sign, then Morgan wasn't sure what was.

The two of them walked into the main room, Morgan feeling momentarily thrown by the big group of familiar and new faces. The people Morgan did recognize all looked taller and older, and Morgan realized to her dismay that, aside from Robin – who was _eleven__ –_ she was the shortest there.

She and Jaime kept aiming for the others, neither speaking up, as if they were waiting for the group to notice them first.

And notice them they did. At some point, Impulse looked their way and let out a surprised whoop.

"Guys, Morgan is here!" He hollered, by her side in an instant. Morgan would've been annoyed with him announcing her real name to the whole room, especially since there were people there she didn't know, but she'd long since decided that anyone trustworthy enough to be on the Team was trustworthy enough to know her identity.

"Bart! Hi!" She replied, trying and failing to sound as enthusiastic as he did. But then again, nobody could sound as enthusiastic as Bart.

The others were approaching them too, the few faces Morgan didn't recognize hovering in the back.

A green, furry _something_ barreled through the others and hugged her promptly. Garfield had gotten taller, but he'd also started walking in less of a crouch, adding even more to that height. He was just about Morgan's height by now, and Morgan found him a good height for hugging.

But she wasn't a hugger, so she playfully tried to squirm out of his arms. "Gar, you smell like wet fur." She complained.

"Shut up and enjoy it." He ordered, squeezing her tighter just to prove a point. Then he let go, and she got her revenge by grabbing him in a headlock and messing his hair up roughly with her knuckles.

Morgan spotted Robin rolling his eyes quite fiercely at their antics to the side of the small group, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

He glared at her, but not in an 'I'm going to murder' you kind of way – which was an improvement, actually.

"Ow, leggo!" Garfield complained.

She released him, finding she could stop the huge smile that had seemed etched onto her face the second Bart had announced her arrival.

Hugs were exchanged all around, and pretty quickly, Morgan was faced with the new members she had yet to meet.

"Sparrow, this is Cyborg," Blue Beetle started out, pointing at a huge guy that was half robot and half man.

After getting over her initial shock at the way half of his body seemed to have been replaced with mechanics, Morgan smiled at him and shook his hand, quickly looking at the next person as Blue introduced her.

"And this is Raven." Beetle said next, turning Morgan's attention onto the next weird sight.

It seemed the Team had gained a pretty weird couple of people while Morgan had gone. This new girl was hiding in the shadows of her hood, only her mouth and lower jaw visible, her skin a strange grey hue.

She greeted the girl, who responded with a flat 'hi' in return.

"And this is-"

"Lemme guess," Morgan pretended to study the girl in front of her. With the Large 'S' on her chest, and the blue-red-yellow color scheme, it wasn't exactly hard. "Supergirl?"

The other blonde smiled and nodded.

"I'm guessing you aren't a clone like Superboy. You don't exactly look like the big guy."

"I'm his cousin." Supergirl explained.

_Wait, wasn't Krypton destroyed? _Morgan instantly wondered. She could've sworn she'd heard that he was the only one of his kind.

Looking at the girl, Morgan didn't ask, however. She Just nodded and made an 'aha' noise, turning to the next, and last, addition to the Team.

The last girl – woman – looked weird, in a strangely gorgeous way. She had orange-y tan skin. Her eyes weren't just green – they were fluorescent, no pupil, just orbs of glowing emeralds. Her hair seemed alive, almost like it was on fire, as it cascaded down her back in a curtain of pretty ginger. She was beautiful in an otherworldly way, and the fact that her purple outfit was extremely revealing probably helped to gain quite a lot of attention around the guys.

"And last, but not least-"

"I'm Starfire." The girl interrupted Blue excitedly, shaking Morgan's hand enthusiastically.

"Sparrow." Morgan responded, finding the girl's flawless smile infectious. "Where are you from, if I'm allowed to ask?"

"Tamaran. It's not.. on Earth."

"Yeah, I kinda guessed." Morgan answered nonchalantly

"Starfire crash landed on Earth a year ago." Blue explained.

"Ouch." Morgan grimaced in sympathy. "How was that?"

"I could not speak your language when I first arrived, so there was a small misunderstanding. I attacked the Team." Starfire admitted, sounding remorseful. "But after that, it was fine. I'm glad to be on the Team."

Lagoon Boy came up and placed his arm on Morgan's shoulder, leaning against her with a smirk that spelled trouble. "That was a pretty interesting mission. But Starfire and Nightwing managed to work the language barrier out."

Morgan wouldn't have sensed that something was wrong if Lagoon Boy hadn't been smirking at Starfire in such a fashion, and the others hadn't been sending him warning looks.

"Oh?" Morgan said casually, sounding like she was only mildly interested in knowing how, when truly, she _really wanted to know how._ "How so?"

"Starfire kissed him. Somehow that gave her the ability to speak English."

For a short second, Morgan's brain short circuited. She was sure she must've looked like someone who'd just taken a large bite out of a lemon.

Truth be told, she actually liked Starfire already. The other girl seemed nice. And Morgan really did _not_ want to do the jealous ex-girlfriend routine.

Still, a tiny, small part of her was viciously hissing _back off, girlie._

She resented that part and did her best to squash it down. _She_ had left Dick in America. She did not get to be jealous. And Starfire hadn't even kissed him because of romantic feelings – at least, Morgan assumed she didn't as she would've only just met Dick when she kissed him – she'd done it to overcome a language barrier!

"Oh." She responded, unsure how else to react.

"That's not going to be a problem, is it, Sparrow?" Impulse was at her other side suddenly, leaning on her shoulder too. He too was looking like the situation amused him greatly.

Starfire looked utterly confused. "How is it a problem?" She questioned.

Before Morgan could signal for the boys to _shut up _Impulse and Lagoon Buy answered as one. "Sparrow and Nightwing used to date."

Morgan elbowed both of them quite powerfully in their guts, making the boys back off immediately.

"Oh! I am so sorry!" Starfire held a hand over her mouth with a look of genuine regret on her face.

"Yeah, well." Morgan shrugged, hoping it looked casual instead of sad. "Don't worry about it. That was a _long_ time ago."

Morgan heard someone scoff next to them and turned, honestly not surprised to see Robin looking at her with a scowl and his arms crossed.

"Ah! You must be Robin." She teased. "I thought I'd noticed Batman got himself a new model. Though, I have to say, you kinda look exactly like the last three."

Damian glared harder at her, and Morgan was pretty sure the only reason he hadn't broken her spine yet was because she'd fed him chocolate cake earlier, and because his pets liked her. Morgan still wondered how such a hostily boy could be such an animal friend, but both Titus the dog and Alfred the cat seemed to stalk his every movement.

Red Robin snorted out a small laugh.

"So, you guys just got back from a mission? How'd it go?"

"It went well." Red Robin answered. "After the whole Alian invasion ordeal two years ago no mission seems too difficult to handle."

Morgan understood far too well. Nothing yet had happened that could quite compare to the seriousness and urgency of their situation back then. Of course, the death of Batman must've been a huge blow, but in the grand picture, it wasn't as big of a crisis as the enslavement of the entire human race would've been.

In the smaller picure, Morgan was still trying to truly come to terms with how much his death had influenced her life so far.

Aaaand here she was, thinking about Dick again. She seriously needed a life.

"Awesome," She responded with a smile, trying to distract herself from her wandering thoughts.

She didn't have to. The words had barely left her mouth when new voices reached her ears. Looking behind her, she spotted a few Leaguers entering from the Zeta room. She recognized Black Canary instantly, talking to Hawkgirl and a Green Lantern Morgan wasn't sure she knew who was. He looked vaguely familiar, so she must've seen him around, probably bfore she left for Denmark, but she couldn't remember his name.

Black Canary looked their way, spotting Morgan a second later.

"Sparrow," She called, making Morgan step away from the small group of teenage heroes and approach the three Leaguers instead.

"Black Canary," Morgan greeted once she reached them, smiling widely at the older woman who had helped her through a lot of shit during Morgan's time with the Team. Black Canary had helped her cope with her fathers death. She'd been there to listen to Morgan vent when she needed it. Morgan could clearly remember the two of them drinking chocolate smoothies on the docks, talking about Morgan's boy problems. The other blonde had explained some things about Nightwing that had made Morgan understand him so much better.

Oh, great, thinking about him again.

_Stop it!_

"It's good to see you." Morgan got out, forcibly redirecting her thoughts.

"And you as well." Black Canary placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. "How was your extended trip to Denmark?"

Morgan shrugged, honestly feeling very bittersweet about that trip. "It was good. But it's been difficult coming back. Readjusting to my old life and such."

"I can understand. Are you joining the League now that you're back?"

The winged girl grimaced, rubbing at her neck for soemthing to do. "Eh, I'm not sure.."

A cleared throat drew their attention. Morgan looked from Black Canary and onto the tall Lantern next to them. His buzz-cut reddish-blonde hair and strong jawline made him look like a 'tough guy' type, but he was wearing a flirtarious smile that took away any edge he might've had.

"Of course," Black Canary didn't necessarily sound enthusiastic as she introduced the guy. "Sparrow, this is our newest Green Lantern-"

"Guy Gardner, to the ladies." He smirked, straightening his back, proudly displaying the logo on his puffed-out chest.

He seemed like quite the peacock, Moran decided. But, somehow, he was oddly charming. Either way, she nodded at him with a small, amused smile. "Nice to meet you."

"You as well, beautiful." He winked.

Morgan was momentarily taken aback, not at all used to guys blatantly flirting with her. Out of the corner of her eye, Morgan could see Black Canary roll her eyes and Hawkgirl curl her lip in disgust. Their reaction made her think he probably did this with pretty muche very girl ever, which put her enough at ease to respond casually.

"Real charmer, huh? How many girls have you been practising on?"

Hawkgirl grinned. "Too many." She reassured her. "We're late for a meeting. It was good seeing you, Sparrow, but now we must get going."

Morgan nodded. "Well, I won't keep you then."

Guy lingered for a second as the two women continued on. "I'll see you around?" he asked hopefully.

Morgan shrugged. "Depends. If Gotham's not too busy, I'll probably hang around the Team once in a while."

He paused at her words. "You're in Gotham? Isn't that-"

"Batman's city?" She interrupted. "Sure. But he doesn't get to stake claims on an entire city. I grew up there too."

"So, do you work with him?" the Lantern asked next.

Morgan shook her head. "I wish. Apparently, he 'works alone'. Except when he works with Robin. And the League. Maybe it's just me he doesn't like."

Well, not _maybe. _Morgan _knew_ it was just her he didn't like.

"Well, add that to another thing I don't get about the Bat. He'd be crazy to turn down a woman like yourself." The guy responded in what had to be the least subtle attempt at flirting Morgan had ever experienced.

"Uh, thanks." She replied flatly. "Didn't you have a meeting?"

"Lantern!" Black Canary shouted just as Guy was about to respond.

He glared after the older woman before turning back to Morgan, his frown immediately turning into yet another flirtarious smile. "I'll see you around." He said, sounding very sure of that fact. Morgan shrugged it off.

"Who, exactly, was that?" Morgan asked once Blue Beetle and Red Robin had approached her.

"He's the newet Green Lantern." Blue explained. "Bit of a sleeze, if you ask me. He keeps gawking at Starfire."

"Hm." Morgan neutraly answered. "Well, it was really nice seeing all of you again, but I should probably get going. I was kindda in the middle of something when I was hunted down by you."

She offered the two teenagers a smirk, waving at the large team behind them. "I'll see you guys later!" She said loud enough for the Team to hear, earning herself a dozen farewell's, and then she slipped from the room.

It wasn't like Morgan didn't feel like she belonged with the Team anymore, but it was so easy to see how they'd grown and developped without her. Just standing with them made her feel.. old. All the members of the Team who'd been older than her before were now part of the Justice League instead. They'd moved on, and Morgan was suddenly faced with the fact that not only had she out-aged the Team.. The Team had also outgrown her.

A strange weight settled in her stomach as she Zeta'd back to Gotham. Morgan found herself wondering just where exactly she belonged.

* * *

I kinda imagine that, once you turn eighteen, you can join the League (as established in the first season of YJ), but that most stay until they're twenty. After you reach twenty years, people honestly expect you to join the League. You're no longer a kid, not even a teenager, so it's time you sat at the grown up's table. So any member of the Team who is over twenty at this point will have moved onto the League.

I researched Guy Gardner (AKA least likeable, womanizing dude ever). What a tool, huh? Like, I had no idea DC had a character that basically every fan just hates. of course, I had to add him. Like I had a choice.

Fun fact: So how's this for a stupid moment: I totally forgot about Damian's animals until much later after writing her arrival at the Manor. When I remembered, I kept telling myself to remember going back to edit them in, but I clearly forgot about it anyway until this chapter. Oh well. They are there, so just pretend I mentioned them earlier, thank yew.


	8. That Was Then

**Chapter Eight: That Was Then**

* * *

June 16th

Admittedly, maid duties weren't _all_ bad. It was fairly uncomplicated at least.

Every morning at six thirty, Morgan would come down to the kitchen and help Alfred prepare breakfast. At seven, Tim and Damian, who were still going to school, would come and eat breakfast, and then Morgan would clean up while Alfred drove the boys. On the occasional days that Dick went to the office, he'd join them. His presence was a bit of a mood killer because he and Morgan seemingly couldn't be in the same room without him snapping at her at some point.

It was like back when they'd first met, except the roles were reversed.

Once Alfred came back, the two of them ate breakfast together and then he'd provide her a list of chores she needed to complete that day.

Some days, the chore list was longer than others, but Morgan always hopped to it eagerly, because once she finished that list, she'd have the rest of the day to herself. Provided she didn't have to help him with dinner. She helped him every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday.

Today was a Thursday, so she wasn't helping with dinner. And she'd already finished her chores.

So Morgan and Tim were playing cards. They were sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace in the most commonly used living room of the Manor. The rug underneath them was soft and comfortable, the heat of the fire in the lit fireplace a pleasant warmth.

She'd tried to teach him a game she'd learned in Denmark, named 'Asshole'. It didn't really work with only two players, so they'd tried to convince Damian – who had been meditating in the corner of the room, doing his best to ignore the noisy pair – to play along.

Well, Morgan had tried to convince the boy. Tim had just been shaking his head at her like, _you don't want him to play, trust me._

Damian had left the living room after that, mumbling something about 'mingling with the servants' and 'card games are a waste of time'.

The two of them simply shrugged and moved on to another game. This was one she'd also learned in Denmark – her _farfar_ had been an enthusiastic card player – called 'Stress', which was a game for two players.

They were shouting and laughing as both felt their competitive sides flare up.

"So, I've completely forgotten to ask, but how's Cassie?" Morgan asked during a more calm part of the game.

Tim shrugged, grimacing slightly. "She's fine. She's, uh, back on Thymescira."

Morgan shot him a sympathetic look. "Oh. I'm sorry, Tim. I didn't know you two.."

"We haven't." He quickly supplied. "We're still together and everything. It was part of her training. She's been gone for six months now. She told me it'd be a year at the most."

She pressed her lips together and nodded. "Oh. Well, halfway there already then, huh?"

It seemed like the bat-boys' girlfriends had a thing for traveling across the world for very long periods at a time. Morgan could only hope Tim and Cassie didn't end up like her and Dick.

As if the thought of him summoned the man, Dick stepped into the room right then. Neither Morgan nor Tim noticed him right away, engrossed in their game.

Tim made a really quick move – using all of his Red Robin skills no doubt – that declared him the winner of the game.

"Yes!" He cheered. After losing to Morgan two times in a row, the victory felt extra sweet. "I did it! You _suck!"_

Morgan laughed and swatted at his arms, which were fist bumping the air in victory. "I was going easy on you!" She protested.

A throat was cleared and the two on the floor froze for a second before turning their heads to spot Dick standing in the doorway.

He was looking between them with a glare on his face that felt slightly more heated than usually.

"I'm _trying_ to finish some paper work and I can hear the two of you all the way down in the study. So shut up."

He aimed one last look at them, seemingly glaring extra much at Tim – which Morgan found weird because he usually only glared at her when she was in the same room as him – before he turned on his heel and disappeared again.

Unable to resist the urge, Morgan stuck her tongue out at his retreating back, earning her an amused and choked snort from Tim.

"What an ass." She rolled her eyes.

"How's that going, by the way?" Tim asked, referring to her plan to chip away at his ass-ness until he was the old Dick again.

Morgan sighed. "Not well. He's stubborn. I feel like I'm making no progress at all."

Tim looked thoughtful as he gathered the cards together and shuffled them. "Maybe he needs to blow off some steam. Unwind a bit. I still say you should seduce him."

Morgan aimed an unimpressed look at him. What was it with his boy and wanting Morgan and Dick to hook up?

"I'm not going to seduce him. That's just stupid." She told him firmly. "Who says I want to sleep with him anyway."

Tim cocked an eyebrow at her. He shrugged, a slow grin spreading on his face. "Nobody."

Morgan glared at him, not liking that 'knowing' look on his face.

Come on. She didn't want to sleep with Dick.

Erh, at least she kind of thought so?

* * *

June 19th

"I believe there are easier ways to slice a tomato, miss." Alfred spoke up, almost making Morgan drop the two items she had in her mental grip.

"Shh, don't distract me." She mumbled, sticking her tongue out at the corner of her mouth in deep concentration.

She managed to keep her mental hold of the tomato in front of her, squinting her eyes as she aimed it at the knife she also had a mental hold of. Her left hand kept the knife still, balancing with the tip of the handle on the dark wooden counter. Her right hand was spread wide, moving slowly as she positioned the tomato two feet from the knife. For a moment, the kitchen was silent with anticipation. Then, with a decisive flick of her hand, the tomato launched itself at the knife and sliced in two clean pieces, falling to each side of the blade.

"Yes!" She cheered, fist bumping the air. "Told you I could do it!"

"All the same, I think I'll finish this up." Alfred remained unimpressed by her skills, probably more interested in her ability to help with dinner quickly and efficiently.

He let go of the spoon he'd been using to stir in the soup and approached the spot where Morgan had been – very slowly – cutting up vegetables for a salad.

She wanted to protest and claim she could do this, but Alfred interrupted her with another task.

"If you want to help, you can dust off the study. I'm afraid it hasn't been done in nearly a month and it can't be healthy for Master Dick to breathe in that much dust when he does his paperwork."

See, Morgan was all for cleaning the study. A bit of dusting wouldn't kill her.

But she knew _Dick_ was in there right now. And she was pretty sure he'd be less than compliant if she tried to clean up his study while he was in there. He'd probably get angry just by the idea of it. And at her for being stupid enough to suggest it.

Looking at the butler, she quickly reminded him of this. "But Dick's in there."

He looked at her with a blank face. "Exactly."

_Ooooooh._

Morgan smiled at the butler and dashed for the supply closet, pulling out a cloth for dust wiping.

Then she all but skipped down the halls towards the study. She tried to minimize the skipping, turning it into a light jog instead.

Reaching the door, she knocked three times on it, waiting for his voice to rumble through the thick wood, allowing her entrance.

It did a second later.

Morgan slowly opened the door and peaked inside. He was sitting by the huge oaken desk, his blue eyes trained onto the papers in front of him. When the person at the door didn't say anything right away, he looked up, frowning once he saw that it was her.

"What do you want?" He asked sourly.

Morgan tried to ignore the instinctual hurt she felt at his tone. As much as she tried to cover up, it still stung every time he looked at her like she was vermin or spoke to her in that short, clipped, angry tone.

"Alfred told me to dust the place." She informed him. "Apparently it hasn't been done for a month. May I?"

He studied her briefly, still that glare on his face, looking like he was seriously considering telling her to screw off.

Then he sighed and rolled his eyes before focusing back on his paperwork. "Sure. Whatever." He dully replied.

Morgan smiled tightly and stepped fully into the room, closing the door silently behind her. A very heavy silence settle between them as she scanned the room. Tall bookshelves flanked the place, their tops most likely covered in dust. She'd probably do best to deal with those first.

Poking her tongue out in the corner of her mouth, she bit slightly into it, preparing her mental focus. Then, moving her hands a few inches to her sides, she spread her fingers and moved her arms upwards. Her entire body levitated and she gently moved herself upwards until she was level with the top of the shelves.

She could feel his eyes on her back as she reached the top of the shelf and proceeded to quickly wipe it off. Morgan moved herself along the shelf and then the next until she had dusted them all. Then she floated back onto the ground and started wiping at the rows on the bookcases instead, trying to focus on her task and not the silent and angry man at the desk.

It didn't take her long to just fully ignore him and work on dusting. Soon, she forgot about the awkward silence and the feeling of him watching her every once in a while, and let her mind wander as she dusted. Eventually, seemingly without noticing, she started humming to herself. She didn't really think much on it, Morgan had always hummed whenever she did work around her moms apartment, and the habit wasn't about to stop just because it was a huge manor that needed cleaning and not just a small apartment. She'd been singing in a choir until she turned ten, at which point her dad had left them and she'd stopped going to a lot of things because it stressed her mom. So humming was natural.

Perhaps she should've been paying more attention to the song she was humming, though, and she only realized which one it had been when she heard a sharp intake of angry breath and then the sound of someone standing so fast their chair almost fell backwards, and then it was too late to take it back.

Her eyes widened but she kept her back to him and kept dusting the shelf she'd reached, hoping he'd decide to let it go. She stopped humming immediately.

"Are you serious?" Dick spoke lowly, letting her know that he wasn't letting it go like she'd hoped. Damn.

She tried to look like she didn't know what was wrong when she turned around, but the sharp look in his eye and the way he was completely ruining the paper in his clenched fist let her know it didn't matter. She'd riled him up, and it didn't matter if it had been intentional or not.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize which song-"

"You know," He interrupted her calmly. He stepped around the desk and approached her in large strides. "I don't understand how you think you get to disappear for two years and then come back and expect everything to be like when you left. Who gave you the right to _force_ yourself back into my life? I _don't_ want you around, and even less when you keep dropping your stupid hints as if you expect me to take you back when _you_ were the one that left _me._"

At the end, there was much more hurt in his voice than Morgan had expected, and it surprised her quite a bit after days of him being carefully emotionless. As he spoke, he met her eyes blankly before they slipped past her face and fixed on some point behind her.

His tone must've surprised him too, because he took a step back as if burned and looked cornered for a moment before he turned and left the room.

Morgan didn't attempt to follow after him. Leaning back against the bookcase behind her, she realized her leaving had hurt him much more than she'd expected – much more than he was letting on. It made her feel utterly horrible and quite a bit like a bitch. She rubbed at her forehead with hand, feeling a headache coming on.

She shook awake and forced herself to stop thinking about it, quickly finishing her dusting instead. Then, she darted out of the study and chose to hide out in her bedroom for the rest of the day. She needed time to think.

She hid because she felt ashamed of her own behavior. His words had shown her a bit of his take on the situation, and suddenly Morgan could clearly understand things from his point of view. He felt like she was forcing her way back into his life despite having been the one to sever contact. Perhaps being around her hurt him just as much as it was hurting her, and the only difference was that she'd _chosen_ it and he hadn't. He'd been forced into it. Dick didn't know she was here to try and make things better. Perhaps he thought she was trying to manipulate him into falling for her again.

Morgan sighed and ran both hands through her hair. After breathing in deeply again, she let go of her hair and continued looking out over the large garden of Wayne Manor. The sun was setting, partly blinding her with its golden rays, and she squinted so she could keep her eyes on the apple trees at the back of the garden. Huge, ripe apples hung from the sturdy branches, and Morgan unwillingly remembered when she and Dick had gone for a walk through them two years ago. She'd made him crawl up and get her an apple because she couldn't do it herself with her broken arm. And he'd smiled and kissed her forehead before climbing nimbly up the tree and handpicking the pinkest, ripest apple of them all.

Morgan forced her eyes away from the apple trees and focused on the end of her window sill instead, trying to forget memories of apple-flavored kisses and sweet, stolen touches underneath the shadow of the trees. Her knees were bent all the way up to her chin, her arms wrapped firmly around them.

In a way, she guessed she _did_ miss that relationship. She was pretty sure she didn't actually harbor feelings for Dick anymore – not strong ones, at least – but she missed how happy she'd been back then. He'd been pretty happy too. She missed feeling loved and she missed loving.

Yes, she did miss their relationship, but that wasn't why she was doing what she was doing. Dick had always had her back. He'd spent hours helping her solve her problems, when he could've easily used that time to work on some of his many other responsibilities.

She owed him.

And if she hadn't owed him, she still would've been here to help. Because he was her friend – Or _had_ been her friend once – and she cared greatly for him even though he was acting like an ass. She'd shared too much with him to just sit down and let him destroy himself. Dick would always have a special place in her heart, no matter how things were now.

And yet, the girl couldn't help but wonder. Somehow, his angry words had installed doubt in her. What if her reasons for helping him really were entirely selfish? What is it was just because she had liked how she felt with him, and didn't want to lose that?

Morgan didn't dwell on the thought, because a knock at her door pulled her from it.

"Come in." She called, straightening her position on the window sill in an attempt to look less like she was sulking.

Tim came in a moment later, carrying a plate with tonight's dinner, which Morgan had missed. "I brought dinner." He offered.

He settled the bowl with soup on her bedside table, offering her a small smile. Morgan returned it and brought her knees to her chin again when Tim sat down on the sill, his back against the glass.

"What happened?" He asked her. Obviously, it was fairly easy to guess that the two of them had been fighting – again.

Morgan sighed and ran a hand over her hair again, smoothing the bouncy curls away from her face. "I don't know.. I provoked him and he reacted."

Tim nodded and leaned his head back against the cool glass, staring up at the ceiling.

"He.. He accused me of trying to force my way back into his life." Morgan revealed. And she supposed that part was true enough, even though she wasn't doing it with the intention Dick thought she had in mind. "And that he didn't want me around, especially if I was trying to get him to take me back when I was the one that left in the first place."

Tim grimaced briefly. "I hate to say it.. but he has a point."

Morgan closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against her forearms, resting against her knees. She didn't protest, because she knew it was true. Morgan _had_ left him. She'd chosen Denmark.

"I know." Her voice was muffled behind her arms and hair. "I guess I just didn't realize it hurt him that much." She looked up at Tim again. "I mean.. it was a _mutual_ thing that we lost contact. I thought he just didn't care anymore. And I guess I didn't either."

Tim was looking at her with a sad face, like her failed relationship hurt him more than it hurt her. Morgan wondered if it was because he was afraid the same thing would happen to him and Cassie.

Morgan sighed and went on, sounding slightly bitter, but mostly with herself. "I was so afraid to come back that I just decided to stay away. Not just because we lost contact, but because I was so focused on all the bad things that had happened to me while on the Team that I forgot about the good stuff."

"And now?" Tim questioned.

Morgan bit into her bottom lip before pressing her lips together. "I'm terrified, to be honest. How am I suppose to come back after two years and just pick up where I left off? I- I'm too old to be on the Team now, but I don't feel mentally or physically ready to join the League. I've done almost no work as Sparrow in two years. I _want_ to be part of a team and be a superhero, but I'm not sure where I belong. I feel like I'm in a twilight zone."

Tim reached a hand out to squeeze her arm. "You belong with us. Whether on the Team or with the League doesn't matter. Eventually, you'll figure out where you want to be."

Morgan offered him a small smirk. "You're pretty clever for a sixteen year old."

Tim barked out a small laugh.

Her grey eyes studied his face, the smile slipping off of her face. "You have such faith in me to help him.. I wish I had your confidence."

Tim shrugged. "I think it's easier for me because I'm just watching from the sidelines."

Morgan pursed her lips. "I feel like I'm utterly failing every time he glares at me. I can't really help him when he won't even talk to me without shouting."

"You'll get through to him. You always did."

Morgan snorted. "I drove him nuts."

"Probably." Tim agreed, earning himself a punch to his shoulder. "But he was happier with you around. I think.. To some extent, he might've been in love with you."

Morgan had a very hard time believing that. She and Dick _had _been pretty infatuated back when they'd dated, but he hadn't been _in love_ with her.

She didn't say this, not at all interested in starting an argument with Tim over whether Dick had been in love with her or not.

"That was then." Morgan reminded him instead. "Doesn't help me much now."

"Morgan, those sorts of feelings don't just fade completely. Dick's always going to want you around just a tiny bit. In fact, that might be what's making him so angry."

She wasn't sure if she hated or liked how good of a point he was making.

"I guess.." She neutrally answered.

* * *

July 12th, 2016

"What're you doing on my phone?" Dick asked suspiciously from the couch.

Morgan, reclining in the armchair next him, grinned innocently. "Nuthin'."

"Bull." He responded. He sat quietly for a moment, and then he pounced, lunging his arm out in an attempt to reach the phone.

Morgan, having anticipated this move, stretched out of the way, not stopping what she was doing.

"C'mon, Morgan!" He protested.

"Stop pouting." She let out a single laugh, which came off more like a snort. "I'll show you in a moment."

He was mock-glaring at her, which she did her best to ignore. Eventually, when his blue gaze got impossible to ignore, she sighed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm just changing your ringtone for when I call." She must've found what she was looking for, because she smirked and pressed a few buttons before throwing the phone at him. Dick caught it and went through his contacts until he reached Morgan's number.

He raised an eyebrow at her once he saw her alteration. "Crazy Little Thing Called Love?" He questioned.

"Queen's a good band." She responded smugly, very satisfied with herself.

He latched onto her leg, pulling her off the recliner and onto the sofa next to him. "Does that mean I get to call you 'baby' like he does in the song?" He asked as he placed a kiss on her temple.

Morgan grimaced. "Absolutely not. 'Baby' is probably the cheesiest thing you could call someone."

Dick barked out a laugh. "I bet I could come up with something worse. Like Munchkin. Can I call you that instead?"

He was teasing, obviously, but he still managed to get Morgan to shudder in disgust. She moved on the couch so she was leaning against the armrest opposite Dick.

"Only if I get to call you Honey-boo." She shot back, smirking.

"Sweetpea, then."

"Male stripper?"

Dick raised an eyebrow at her. "Pretty sure I never stripped in front of you." He reminded her.

"March seventh, after meeting with my dad for the first time. You took me to your apartment and then, as I got out of the bathroom, you took your shirt off." Morgan immediately deadpanned.

Dick felt a smile twitch at his lips. "You really have that sort of stuff memorized?"

Morgan gave him a 'duh' face. "Um, yeah? It was the first time I saw you shirtless. Of course I'm gonna remember it."

She must've realized what sort of ammunition she was giving him, because Morgan's face went dead for a second. "But don't let it go to your head. Awesome abs means nothing if you've got an inflated ego."

Dick rolled his eyes at her, secretly flattered. "Don't worry, I won't get an inflated ego."

"Good." Morgan used her bare foot to poke at his leg. "Malestripper is a stupid nickname anyway." She smiled cheekily at him. "I like boy toy much better. It rhymes and everything."

He studied her for a moment, biting at the inside of his cheek before smirking. Then, he grabbed hold of her foot and pulled so she was lying on the couch with her head on the armrest, instead of leaning her back against it.

"I'm pretty sure the term 'boy toy' can only be used if we actually _did_ anything." He reminded her as he moved so he was hovering above her body on his arms and knees, one knee placed between her thighs very obviously.

Morgan smirked beneath him. "So no boy toy, then." She decided. "Maybe we should just forget the nicknames. They're kinda lame anyway."

Dick nodded. "Agreed."

"But the song stays." She pointed a stern finger at his face.

"Only if you make it your ringtone as well." He retaliated.

Morgan bit into her bottom lip to keep in a big smile, which appeared anyway. "Deal. It could be like 'our song', if that's not too cheesy."

Her left hand, the one not stuck in a cast, reached up to hook a finger into a belt loop on Dick's jeans, tugging at it to get him closer.

Dick laughed before reaching down to kiss her full on the mouth. "I'm sure we can allow a little bit of cheesy." He whispered against her lips.

"Oh my _god_!_" _

Both Dick and Morgan looked at the door to the living room, which Tim had just walked through. He was blushing and squirming in his spot, looking highly uncomfortable at the couple lying on the couch.

"Get a _room,_" He groaned before leaving the living room again, apparently deciding whatever he'd wanted to do in there wasn't worth suffering Dick and Morgan's mushiness.

Morgan let out an exasperated sigh. "Do you think they've ganged together to see how many times they can walk in on us in some compromising situation?" She asked, referring to Alfred having interrupted them two days earlier in the library.

Dick nodded. "They're definitely doing it on purpose."

* * *

Just FIY, Tim is definitely joking with the whole seducing thing.

I rewrote that middle scene a lot. In the beginning, it was way too dramatic, and I honestly just want to delete the entire thing. I'm still not satisfied with it at all, but in the end, I knew the talk she has with Tim afterwards is too important for later events to have cut out. Also, the things Dick said are important for later too. Morgan is in a bit of a crisis right now, unsure where she belongs, questioning her motives.. Poor girl.

Fun fact: Asshole and Stress are real, hilarious, games. I can't resist sneaking in a bit of danish culture (as much as cardgames can be considered culture) every now and then. I'm pretty sure they're exclusively danish games (I googled it).


	9. Heat

**Chapter Nine: Heat**

* * *

_He remembered the heat best. _

_The way the flames had surrounded him, suffocating and burning. The smoke had gotten in his eyes and lungs, making it impossible to see and breathe. _

_He was lying face first, already defeated, on the ground floor, his muddled brain prepared to let him burn with Bruce. Finding a small ounce of strength, he lifted his head off of the dirty floor of the rapidly collapsing building, his sore and watery eyes spotting five blurry shapes through a hole that had once been the main entrance of the factory. They were nothing but shadows, their identities frustratingly hidden from him._

_Over the roar of the fire, he heard a loud, obnoxious and gleeful cackle. _

_Joker. _

_Nightwing found the strength to get to his knees. A cough wracked through him and he bent forward, supporting his usually strong body on weak and wobbly arms. Blood mingled with spit fell in droplets onto the ground below him and he kept coughing until the smoke in his lungs had all but disappeared. _

_Then he got to his legs unsteadily and looked around him at the utter destruction. The entire building was on fire, and he knew he only had seconds to find Bruce and get them both out of there. _

_It was as if that laugh had woken something in him. A survival instinct he thought the smoke and fire had long since burned away. _

_His stinging eyes found the unconscious form of his former mentor only feet away, pinned underneath a pillar that had once been used to support the roof of the building. _

_The heat was torture, licking at his resolve and strength, but he forced his feet to move towards Batman. With a grunt, he forced the heavy – oh god, too heavy – pillar off of Bruce, just enough to pull him out from under it. _

_Nightwing forced himself to not look at Batman's condition as he wrapped his arms around him and stood on heavy limbs. Sluggishly, he walked out of the building, his mind screaming at him to move faster even though he couldn't. _

_His first breath of fresh air was like nothing he'd ever tried before. His shaky legs got them ten feet away from the building when it and he collapsed simultaneously. _

_The five shapes had gone, nothing but their footprints on the sooth-covered ground left to prove they'd ever been there in the first place. The wind was rapidly shuffling the sooth around, erasing the footprints bit by bit. _

_Nightwing looked at Batman – really looked at him – for the first time since he'd found him. He had to force back the urge to vomit at the sight of his burned, bleeding flesh. _

_His shaky fingers pressed against his throat, searching for a pulse. _

"_No, no, no, no.." He croaked out when he didn't find anything. _

_He had to stay calm. The only reason he couldn't feel a pulse was because his fingers were shaking so much. He took two calming breaths and tried again, his fingers less shaky this time. _

_Still nothing. _

"_Nononono – C'mon Bruce, don't do this! No-no-"_

_The smell of burning flesh made him want to vomit all over again, but he still forced himself to press his ear against Bruce's chest, trying to find his heartbeat. _

"_No! NO!"_

* * *

June 21st

"_NOO!"_

Dick gasped out loud and launched himself into a sitting position. He was sweating and breathing heavily, his heart racing as the images faded from his mind. The blankets on the bed were drenched from his sweat and were clinging to him, twisting around his legs as if to hold him in place. Roughly, he kicked them off, feeling confined, trapped.

His throat stung in a way that let Dick know he hadn't been screaming in the dream only.

He pulled his legs over the side of the bed and leaned his elbows against his knees, running still-shaky hands over his face and through his hair.

There was a reason he didn't sleep anymore.

He froze in instinctual fear, still jumpy and terrified from his nightmare, when his doorknob twisted and the door slipped open with a small creak. The hallway behind was completely dark, no figure visible for a moment, and his unease grew.

Then a grey wing appeared, followed closely by wild blonde curls and, eventually, a pale, feminine face pulled into a worried mask.

It was as if his muddled brain hadn't fully realized it was her yet, because he didn't feel the anger he usually did when he saw her. Instead, his bloodshot and tired eyes drank in her face like she was a source of clean water and he'd just wandered through a desert.

"Are you okay?" She asked softly, uncertainly.

He closed his eyes as she spoke, the sound of her voice soothing, like clear bells.

"I heard you shouting.." She took a step closer when he still hadn't answered. Still hadn't barked at her to get out. "And I thought you were having a nightmare."

He _knew_ he was supposed to be angry with her. Just as he'd been the past twelve days. But he was tired and scared and her mere presence was worryingly soothing to him. She was like a balm.

He remembered back when the Cave had blown up. She'd hugged him and then he'd had the best night's sleep he'd had in weeks, if not months. His treacherous brain wondered if hugging her now would do the same thing.

She took two more steps inside his room, no longer hiding behind the door. He swallowed dryly when the moonlight shone on her bare legs and arms, the shorts and tank top she slept in revealing more skin than his frazzled nerves could honestly handle right now.

He wanted to pull her to him and never let go, burry his face in her adorable bed head and breathe her scent in deeply. Let his entire world fill up with her and her alone, until all thoughts of fire and death and cackling laughter were gone.

But he didn't. Dick had two reasons for standing up from his bed and letting his vulnerable look melt away, replaced by one of mild anger. He felt the blissful feeling upon seeing her being replaced with the usual anger as he fully woke up. He latched ontot he anger, findign it easy and familiar – safe.

Firstly, he still didn't want her around. He was doing fine by himself. He couldn't let Morgan become a distraction. Avenging Bruce was more important.

Secondly, he didn't want to drag her down with him. He was poisonous to anyone around him, bringing only anger and pain and danger. And he wanted to protect Morgan from that. No matter how angry he got with her, the instinct to protect her was still somehow there.

He started heading for the door. He could tell Morgan thought he was approaching _her_ for a second, and he kept his eyes away from her as he passed her and reached his real destination.

"I told you to leave me alone." Was all he said as he paused by the doorway for a moment.

Then he left her in his room, heading for the Batcave. It wasn't like he'd be getting anymore sleep tonight.

* * *

June 25th

It was getting harder and harder to find the time to get in patrol in the city. But Morgan made sure to do it as often as possible. She knew it annoyed Batman a whole heck of a lot that she 'stole' some of his work, but patrolling was just as important it she wanted to get through to him than the stuff she did back at Wayne Manor. And it was good for her sanity too. She wanted to ease her way back intot he hero life, and patrol was the best way to do it.

Talking to Dick about his problem did absolutely nothing. So she was going to get close to him some other way. And she planned to do this by somehow convincing him to team up with her on patrols. It was obvious that this whole 'proving himself worthy of the cowl' and 'avenging Bruce' thing was something he wasn't going to let go any time soon. So instead of trying to convince him not to, she'd simply convince him to let her join in.

Work together on tracking down Batman's killers and help him bring them to justice.

She hadn't actually suggested it yet, mainly because Dick looked like he wanted to punch a kitten every time she tried to talk to him, but she was wearing him down. No worries.

And she was starting out by making it clear that she wasn't leaving the Gotham crime scene just because he wanted her to. She was making sure he got used to the idea of Sparrow working in Gotham just like him, until the thought of a team up wasn't so crazy.

She was hoping for him to reach the 'well, she's doing some of my work anyway, so a team up might not be such a bad idea' stage.

Morgan wasn't sure she really had any idea what she was doing. Truthfully, sometiems she felt like she was wanderign blindly with this whole 'helping Dick' thing. It flet like, no matter what she did, it wasn't changing anything.

A powerful gust of air blew at her face, making her braid whip wildly around her. She was leaning off the side of a huge skyscraper, holding onto the railing with her left arm as her feet pressed against the side of the building, keeping her in a somewhat upright position.

The tall building provided an excellent view of the streets, but because it was so high up, she couldn't really _hear _anything. It was fine, though. She'd just make sure to keep her eyes peeled, even as her mind wandered.

If catching Batman's killers was the only way to bring Nightw- Dick.. Batman – which ever – peace, then that's what she'd do. And a team up would also mean getting to talk to him and being around him and slowly influencing him in the right direction. She could do this.

Uh, she hoped so.

Flashing, blue lights caught her attention and far below, she spotted two police cars chasing after a third, wildly speeding one. It was weaving in and out of the traffic around it, causing several car crashes as other drivers swerved to avoid it.

Despite her previous statement of not being able to hear anything over the roar of the wind, Morgan heard the gunshots being exchanged just fine.

Smirking, Morgan let go of the building with her left hand, instantly freefalling.

She closed her eyes briefly to enjoy the rush of the wind and the tickle in her stomach. Suddenly, unwelcome images of another fall from a tall building – this one in a mad dash to save her plummeting mentor – flashed behind her eyelids and Morgan quickly opened them again and spread her wings, gliding towards the car chase.

As if the memory had brought it forward, her right arm gave a small twitch of pain, originating in the scars she still bore from that fall.

_Focus, girl._ She scolded herself and bit into her bottom lip as she flew over a building, finally aligning herself with the cars below.

During her gradual descent from the skyscraper, Morgan had regained all of her other senses. Now, she could hear the police sirens, smell the burning rubber as the cars swerved and turned too roughly for the tires, leaving black tracks on the road. She could practically taste gun powder and sweat in the air as she landed on the roof of the chased car with a 'bump'. She folded her wings tightly against her back to avoid wind resistance and quickly grasped onto any nock and cranny that would stop her from falling off the car.

Nobody in the car had noticed her yet, though the police in the cars behind had.

The driver was paying close attention to the road in front of them, expertly maneuvering the vehicle around the other cars on the busy Gotham streets. The passenger side window was open and the man on the side had stuck half of his body out, supporting the large semi-automatic in his beefy arms. Morgan, trying to lie flat onto the roof to make it easier to stay on, scooted closer to his window. Once she was close enough, she swung to the side, keeping her grip on the roof rack so she didn't simply fall off the car entirely.

She kicked at the gun, and the guy, probably thrown off by the very sudden appearance of a superhero, practically dropped it by himself.

"Alright, I'll give you guys a fair chance to pull over and give yourself up willingly." She told him conversationally, like she'd simply been commenting on his checkered shirt.

He gaped at her for a second, his small eyes, hidden under huge, bushy eyebrows, peering at her as if processing her request.

Then – And Morgan honestly hadn't expected any different – he swung at her. She blocked his punch with her arm, making sure to scowl disapprovingly at him before she grabbed hold of the front of his checkered shirt and dragged him out of the window. Using her telekinesis, she aimed at an open trash container and launched him at it. He let out a surprised shout, the sound muffled the second he landed head first in the mountain of trash.

She'd gained the attention of the driver by now and the woman let out a growl right as she pulled out a hand gun and aimed it at Sparrow, firing off a single shot.

Luckily, she was driving at the same time. It stumped her aim and the bullet just barely missed the superhero.

Morgan swung back onto the roof to avoid the bullets.

A curse left her mouth when the woman simply proceeded to shoot through the roof, narrowly missing her every time.

"Two.. three.." She rolled to left side of the roof and tried to make her body as small as possible. Another shot pierced a hole in the steel, right next to her left hand. "Four.."

The woman suddenly braked harshly and swung the car roughly to the side, turning a corner at a break-neck speed.

Morgan rolled around uncomfortably on the roof, And she would've gotten thrown off if she hadn't had such a steel grip on the roof rack.

Once the driver discovered her wild swerve hadn't thrown Sparrow off, she aimed another shot through the roof.

"Five.." Morgan shuffled closer to the woman's side of the car. "C'mon. Only one shot left. Just fire."

The last shot was fired, and to her dismay and stunned surprise, Morgan felt pain ripple through her left thigh.

She ignored it for now, determined to deal with the woman before she got the chance to reload.

Reaching the passenger side once again, she pushed off of the roof and launched herself through the open window, landing messily in the seat.

With a flick of her fingers, the gun fell from the woman's hand and through the window behind Morgan.

"What the fuck!" The woman shouted in surprise. She probably wasn't used to people moving stuff around with their minds.

"Pull over." Morgan demanded. The driver looked shocked at her and Morgan raised an eyebrow, doing a small flick of her wrist to remind her of her abilities.

Surprisingly – honestly, this had to be the first time this had happened – she let out a growl and actually slowed down, pulling over by the side of the road.

Morgan dropped the hand she'd had ready to punch her in the throat if she tried anything, smiling approvingly. "Good girl."

Th criminal scowled and looked like she was on the verge of pouting, hitting her fists repeatedly against the steering wheel.

Morgan nicked the keys from the engine to make sure she didn't take off again. Then, just as the police cars pulled up beside them, the police emerging immediately, she opened the door on the passenger side and stepped out to greet them.

"Hi, officers." She said, winking at the cute, young police guy with the freckles and the green eyes. "Got 'em for ya."

"Thanks, Sparrow." Said the tall police woman.

The cute guy frowned at her leg. "You should probably get that treated." He pointed.

Morgan looked down at her leg, finally finding the time to assess the wound the bullet had inflicted. It was nothing more than a graze, but it was still bleeding and it stung quite a bit.

"I'll be sure to do that." She shrugged. "Just need to go and pick up the guy I threw in the dumpster. I'll be right back with him."

"We've got this one." The police promised.

"Here're the keys." She threw them at the woman, who caught them in one hand.

Then she took to the air, flying back the way the car had come from. It took her a few minutes, but eventually she spotted the familiar dumpster.

Only, the thug wasn't in it anymore.. he was leaning against it. Tied up.

And Batman and Robin were there.

"Oh, great.." She held back the urge to roll her eyes as she touch ground ten feet away, approaching casually. She'd been in such a good mood and honestly didn't want it ruined.

She knew she was here to make Dick better, and this could be used as an opportunity to get to talk to him, but come on, she had kind of hoped tonight would be a bit of a break for her. Couldn't a girl hit the city and beat up a few criminals without having to confront her ex?

"For me?" She joked, motioning for the tied-up criminal. "Aw, you shouldn't have!"

Batman and Robin bore identical unimpressed and un-amused looks, neither moving an inch.

Morgan dropped her smile and raised an eyebrow at them before rolling her eyes.

"Well, this guy needs to go to the police, so I'll be off. Thanks for.. tying him up, or whatever."

"You're bleeding."

She'd already turned around with the thug in her telekinetic grasp, but Morgan knew who'd spoken. The voice was too young to be Batman's, which meant Robin had seen fit to inform her of her injury.

She turned to him, a small smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. The she looked down at the bleeding cut on her thigh, as if she'd only just noticed it.

"Would you look at that.." She shrugged, aiming that teasing smirk at the young boy, who was frowning. She couldn't tell if it was from concern or annoyance, but she didn't stay to find out as she took to the air with her conquest in tow.

Batman had barely moved during the exchanged, and it only served to remind her of how hard this was going to be.

* * *

The watch on her nightstand was pushing near three AM by the time Morgan got back. She knew both Dick and Damian had gotten back a few minutes ago too because she'd heard voices from the study as she passed by it. She'd rounded a corner right as the two men emerged from the place, making sure to quickly dart to her room, not particularly interested in a late-night confrontation.

She was tired, in pain and cranky. And she had to get up in three and a half hours to prepare breakfast for the guys.

Fantastic.

Morgan quickly and expertly peeled off her suit and threw it into the back of her closet, her eyes trained longingly at her bathroom.

She could almost feel tears well in her eyes with how much she was looking forward to this shower.

Only pausing to grab medical supplies to get a look at that bullet graze of hers, she jumped underneath the showerhead and sighed in relief as the warm water started pelting at her sore body.

Morgan sat down in the shower and used a wet cloth to rub away the dried blood on her thigh, starting at the blood farthest from the origin point. Once all the blood was gone, she inspected the wound in itself. It wasn't that deep and probably wouldn't require stitches. A bit of gauze around it to keep out bacteria would do just fine.

She stood up again and let the water keep up its stream down her body, when it suddenly shifted in strength and turned icy cold.

She let out a squeak and jumped out of the way, the sudden change entirely unexpected and very unwelcome. It only lasted for a few seconds, and then the temperature returned to normal. Then, just as she'd written it off as a minor plumbing hiccup, the water picked up in strength again and turned scorching hot.

Morgan turned off the shower immediately, stepping out and wrapping a towel around her body.

Anger and annoyance swelled in her, a deep scowl on her face.

"Can't even take a shower.." She grumbled to herself. It wasn't the first time this had happened. She knew Wayne Manor was an old house. She _knew_ that the plumbing sometimes got a bit screwed up. She _knew _that Alfred had told her this the second day of her stay and had even shown her how to fix the problem.

Unfortunately, she also knew that to fix her water problem, she had to go all the way do to the basement and readjust things manually.

So Morgan, tired, dirty and cranky, didn't bother putting on any other clothes than the towel she was currently sporting as she marched out of her room and practically stomped all the way down to the basement.

Her damp feet were seriously chilled by the time she reached the basement,and goosebumps were rising on her arms as the water cooled. She ignored the chill, pushing away thoughts of how she should've put on some clothes before going down here, focusing instead on getting to the water system so she could fix the problem.

Turning a corner, she stopped short quite suddenly at the sight over another person down there.

_Aw crap.._

Dick was standing with his back to her, adjusting levers by the water system. By the way his hair glistened in the harsh light of the simple lightbulb, Morgan figured he must've been attempting to take a shower as well when the piping gave out.

Worst of all, he was only wearing a pair of pants. Meaning Morgan had a full view of his bare back. At least _he_ had had the sense to put on clothes – partly – before going for a stroll through the house.

She really thought she'd gotten over those teenage hormones and urges, but it seemed she was just as immature about it as she'd been the first time she'd accidentally seen him shirtless.

Morgan was very well aware that she was standing, frozen, in nothing but a towel, _staring_ at him, eyes huge and lips pressed together to keep in a loud breath.

Then, when he turnrd around, it only seemed to get worse. Because now he could see her too. Honestly, if Morgan had been smart, and less shocked, she would've legged it out of there before he had noticed her.

But now, because of her less than awesome brain, he'd seen her, and she would have to explain herself.

As she tried to find the words, Morgan couldn't physically force her eyes to stop tracing his form.

_C'mon, Morgan!_ She shouted at herself. _You've seen more than that before. Pull yourself together!_

She bit harshly into her bottom lip, trying to actually remember the reason she'd found herself in her current situation.

Neither had said anything yet, and for a small moment, Dick looked just as paralyzed as her. His eyes were leaving scorching trails all over her body, not even looking like he was trying to hide it. Suddenly, Morgan didn't feel as chilled as before, yet the goosebumps remained. For an entirely different reason, she suspected.

"Um." She scrambled on to figure out what she should say now. She'd brought herself into this situation, and now she wasn't sure how to get out of it again. "I was going to.. fix the water. But I can see you've already handled that.. So I'm going to.. - Bye."

Morgan didn't give him time to answer. Convinced that her face was absolutely crimson with horror and embarrassment, she quickly shuffled back up the stairs and into the mansion, practically running all the way to her room without breathing.

Once she reached her own bedroom, she wrenched the door open and slammed it shut behind her, hating how she felt like the biggest breathed out heavily and leaned her ear against the thick, wooden door, listening for any movement outside.

There was silence for a long moment, and then, finally, she heard feet shuffling along the floor, then Dick's door open and close, and a few seconds later, the trickle of water reached her ears again.

Morgan stayed in that position until she heard his shower turn off for good, and then she quickly and quietly finished her own, doing her damndest to ignore the realization she'd made.

Tim was right. She totally still wanted him. Oh god, she wanted Dick so much.

* * *

June 29th

Staring at the sad, unused plate at the head of the table, Morgan felt an involuntary sigh leave her lips. She gathered it and the rest of the plates all the same, and brought them to the kitchen so she and Alfred could do the dishes.

Dick had failed to show up for dinner once again.

She wasn't surprised – he rarely found the time.

Actually, it wasn't so much that he didn't have time, because according to Alfred, he just sat in the Batcave and tried to dig up dirt on the Joker.

Morgan personally called it angsty brooding.

And because he was so busy with his brooding, he ignored dinner. He _had _time, he just chose to prioritize stuff that everyone but him considered less important.

"He skipped dinner again." She told Alfred once she entered the kitchen with the plates in one arm and a bowl of mashed potatoes in the other.

She put the dirty dishes by the sink and made to put the clean plate away when she paused.

Morgan slammed the plate onto the table in a very resolute way, which made Alfred look up from the pot he'd been scrubbing. _Enough is enough_.

"Miss Morgan, what are you doing?" He asked as he watched Morgan ladle a large spoonful of mashed potatoes onto the plate, adding the meat sauce a moment later.

"I'm going to make him eat dinner, if I have to force it down his throat." Morgan answered fiercely, filling a glass with water before stalking out of the room. Her temper had finally taken control, and even though she knew it was probably a really bad idea, she couldn't have forced herself to turn back if she'd tried.

She hadn't stopped to hear if Alfred said anything else, and a moment later, she appeared by Dick's study. She knew tonight was 'paperwork' night, so he'd be in the study and not the Batcave. Which was a good thing because she didn't doubt that he'd meant it when he said he'd throw her out if she ever came down there again.

Since both of her hands were full, Morgan attempted to sort of knock on the door with her foot.

She could tell her attempt was moderately successful when there was a voice on the other side allowing her entrance. Using her elbow to push the door handle down, Morgan pushed the door open with her back and turned to face him as she entered the room.

She'd barely entered the room when his tired sigh rung out.

"What do you want _now._" He sounded genuinely annoyed, and Morgan fought to keep her own annoyance at bay.

Morgan and Dick in the same room was already a dangerous mix. When they were _both_ annoyed, it became downright lethal.

"Dinner." She simply responded before approaching his desk and putting the plate and glass down in front of him in a decisive manner.

"Not hungry." He immediately dismissed her.

"You didn't eat lunch either." She said. "So don't lie."

Dick looked sharply at her. "You're not my mom." He said nastily. "Stop acting like it. It doesn't suit you."

"This isn't about me." Morgan responded. "This is about you taking care of yourself."

His eyes narrowed even further and Morgan was sure the look would've made her cry if she'd been the type. The blazing anger rolling off of him made her feel miserable, but instead of making her want to cry, her own anger flared.

"Alright, that's _it._"

Morgan took a small step forward and slammed her palms down on the wooden surface. Cutlery rattled on his plate and the water in the glass sloshed over the side. She hovered over the desk between them, fixing him with a glare of her own.

"You _don't_ get to destroy yourself, you selfish _prick._" She seethed. "Don't you care at all what this is doing to the rest of us? Do you have any idea what it does to us to sit back and watch, helpless, as you drive yourself mad, or worse, get yourself killed?"

There was a tense silence in which he met her stormy eyes head on, his gaze sharp as a knife and cold as ice. He rose from his seat, and Morgan immediately lost her intimidation factor as she had to practically crane her neck to keep her eyes on his.

"'What this is doing to _you'?" _He repeated in a forcibly calm voice. "_You're _not the one who has to track down your father's killers. All everyone has been doing since I started is tell me to stop, but I don't see _any _of you volunteering to do it instead! If _I_ don't capture those murderers, nobody will! Somebody has to bring these people to justice!"

Morgan took a step back and bit into her lower lip. She could feel her anger die down as she truly thought about what he was saying. He'd willingly taken on a burden he assumed nobody else would want. To be honest, Morgan could understand if he was feeling frustrated. If he truly felt that the people telling him to stop also weren't willing to lift the burden from his shoulders, his anger was justified.

"Let me help." She said firmly.

He drew back as if he'd been hit by an electric current. "_What?"_ He asked incredulously.

"You said nobody was volunteering." She went on. "Well, this is me volunteering. Let me help you track them down."

He scoffed, but Morgan noted that there wasn't any real malice behind it. "Why would you want to help? Why should I _want_ your help?"

Morgan shrugged. "You're obviously not quitting this. And maybe you shouldn't have to. These people have to be brought to justice, I completely agree with that. But you can't go on the way you are now, and you _know_ that as well as I do. So I'm not going to tell you to give it up, I'm going to offer my help instead. Not for Bruce. For you."

He was silent for a long time, looking horribly lost and vulnerable, his eyes flickering between her own. Then, his jaw tensed and he shook his head, that glare reappearing.

"I don't want your help. And I don't need it."

Morgan pressed her lips together and shook her head. She wanted to tell him that he was lying. He _did_ need help. Morgan didn't even care if it came from her or not, she just wished he'd let someone in.

"Fine." She sighed, dropping her head, her eyes latching onto the plate of food between them. "At least eat your dinner."

She headed for the door again, running a hand through her hair tiredly.

As she walked to her own room, Morgan's body started prickling with the urge to go on patrol.

She latched onto the urge, dashing down the halls to reach her room faster, slamming the door shut behind her quickly. Clothes scattered around the room quickly as she threw them off on her way to the closet, where she dug out her Sparrow suit.

* * *

Lol, enter sexual tension.

Next chapter we get to see Morgan go on a mission with the Team!

I had such a hard time naming this chapter. I guess this name works though, so whatever.

I reuploaded the first two chapters because I realized I'd used numbers in the title (as in, writing '1' instead of 'one'.), just so you won't get confused about that.

Fun Fact: The next chapter is being written as we speak. Usually, I've written many chapters ahead, but the mission thing was very spontaniously added, so it hasn't been written fully yet. I'm more than halfway through though.


	10. Trip to the Zoo

**Chapter Ten: Trip to the Zoo**

* * *

She threw on a large overcoat to hide the suit and pulled half of her hair into a ponytail, clearing her view of curls. Then, she left her room, heading for the kitchen in her search of Alfred.

He was sill there, just finishing up on the dishes and he looked up upon her arrival.

"Hey Alfred. I'm heading out. Not sure when I'll be back."

By now, the butler knew that her coat meant Sparrow business, so he simply nodded and told her to take care as he needed her to do the laundry tomorrow.

She smirked at the old man and left Wayne Manor, running along the road. Once she reached a specific bridge, she hopped over the edge and landed on the riverbank. Walking underneath the bridge, she pulled off her coat and necklace, stuffing the necklace into a pouch on her hip and rolling the coat into a tight bundle. She flew up and stuffed the coat into a small hole right at the top of one of the pillars supporting the bridge, making the coat almost invisible unless you knew what you were looking for.

Once done, Morgan flew away, heading for the city at a great speed. She was there ten minutes later, landing right by a Zeta site. She slipped inside the abandoned factory and stepped inside the third closet in a row of four, letting the hidden tech scan her face. Once it confirmed her identity, it lowered itself into a larger room containing a Zeta tube as well as lockers filled with several extra suits and gadgets for the heroes who needed them. The site was one of the larger ones, which was why it also had the restocking function.

Since she wasn't one of the heroes who had anything down there – or anywhere else for that matter – and she didn't need or want to borrow (steal) anything from the others, she slipped by the lockers and straight for the tube, requesting the Watchtower.

Stepping through and enduring the four seconds of mindlessness, Sparrow found herself in the transportation room of the Watchtower. She walked off the platform and headed for the main room, hoping the Team would be there, preferably with some mission she could join in on. The doors slipped soundlessly open in front of her and she immediately spotted Blue Beetle speaking with a team of four heroes. Because of the screen in front of them and the way he was so obviously point and explaining, Morgan knew he was sending them on a mission, and she smiled, hoping she could join.

"What's up, guys?" She greeted, waving halfheartedly as she eyed the screen, trying to figure out what the mission was about.

Blue offered her a small smile. "Mission briefing." He explained shortly, knowing she would understand.

Morgan nodded, tilting her head as she smiled innocently. "Can I join?"

Blue paused and looked at her for a moment before simply shrugging. "Sure, why not. We could use an even number for this mission."

Fighting the urge to fistbump the air, Morgan grinned and waited for him to resume the briefing.

She paid half a mind to what he was saying – apparently, sightings of strange animals had occurred all over the woods by Metropolis' eastern side and they'd managed to track the animals back to an abandoned factory building – studying the four heroes instead.

Obviously, Beast Boy she already knew, so she quickly moved on to the woman standing next to him. Raven's face was a completely cool and calm mask and she kept her focus entirely on Blue Beetle as he explained their mission. Morgan found herself wondering how her skin was that color. Then she realized she was friends with not one, not two, but _three_ people that had green skin so grey-ish purple probably wasn't that weird.

She stood as a great contrast next to Starfire, with her orange skin. The startingly beautiful alien whom Morgan couldn't help but feel inadequate next to. She sighed and looked at her feet, telling herself to stop being ridiculous. She had no way of knowing if there'd been any kind of mutual attraction between Starfire and Nightwing, and yet she couldn't help but feel.. worried. Anxious. Jealous.

And she knew she shouldn't even care because Dick and her were history, but _still._ Morgan wanted so bad to not dislike Starfire for no reason, so she pushed her thoughts away and focused on Supergirl instead.

The girl was standing straight, a strangely stern look on her face as she, just as the other three, kept her undevided attention on their team leader. Her just-below-chin length blonde hair, fair skin and blue eyes made Morgan think of Denmark quite suddenly. The look was very Scandinavian. Pushing that thought away as well, she turned to Blue Beetle again, listening as he finished the briefing.

"We'll split into teams of two to cover more ground. The factory has several floors that we'll divide between us. Beast Boy, you're with Raven." Beast Boy smiled enthusiastically at the girl, earning himself a tiny smile in return. To be honest, Morgan though he looked _very_ happy about this particular team-up.

"Starfire; Sparrow." Blue went on. Morgan nodded at the alien, hoping she didn't look like she was feeling. She was constantly telling herself to be mature about this. If there was anything she _didn't_ need, it was stupid highschool-esque drama. She was twenty years old for christ's sake, she didn't care if this girl had kissed her ex boyfriend.

"Supergirl, you're with me." Blue finished, swiping the holographic screen away. "We'll Zeta to Metropolis and fly from there. I'll assign floors on the way."

Sparrow scooted over to Starfire's side and grinned at her as they followed after Blue Beetle. The other girl returned the smile warmly, which Morgan took as a good sign. If Starfire didn't view _her_ as 'competition', then neither would Morgan. She just needed to _chill. Seriously. _

They entered the Zeta room and the five of them shuffled onto the nearest platform as Blue plotted in their destination. He joined them just as the beam activated, and away they went.

They reappeared at the outskirts of Metropolis, Beast Boy quickly opening the door of the shed they'd arrived in so they could get out. It was a small shed, way too small for six people.

"Alright, follow me." Blue ordered, taking to the air.

Garfield, the only member of the squad that couldn't fly, transformed into a huge pterodactyl and beat his mighty wings to catch up to their leader.

A small smirk grew on Morgan's lips as she saw the look he cast at Raven, as if hoping she'd be impressed.

When Blue Beetle saw him, he did a visible doubletake. "It looks cool, _ese,"_ He assured him, "But maybe you should go for something a little more inconspicuous, yeah?"

The Pterodacyl hung it's head briefly before transforming into a falcon, screeching in a decidedly offended manner.

"Now that we're at it, stealth mode, everyone." He looked at the four girls. Supergirl tapped her beltbuckle, right in the middle of the small 's', and her colors dimmed greatly, the blue turning almost black, the red as dark as blood. Sparrow almost forgot to beat her wings with her shock when Raven simply _disappeared._ Turned see-through, just like that. She made a mental note to ask the quiet girl about the extent of her powers at some point.

Morgan didn't need to change anything. Her suit had been designed for the very purpose of being stealthy – she supposed being trained by a former Batkid had influenced her a lot more than she realized.

Starfire looked slightly dismayed. "I do not have a stealthmode to my uniform." She revealed.

To be honest, Morgan wasn't sure it would've mattered anyway. She was showing more skin than she was covering, meaning even if she had a way to darken the purple and silver armor, most of her bright orange skin would still be visible. Not to mention her hair that _literally_ looked like it was on fire.

There was nothing stealthy about her appearance at all. Morgan was pretty sure she stood out everywhere and anywhere. She had yet to decide it it was a good or a bad thing.

Blue paused for a moment. "I'm sure it'll be fine." He eventually decided. "We'll fly close to the ground so we're difficult to spot."

Starfire perked up again and the six heroes were properly off, speeding over the treetops.

Morgan was feeling slightly giddy at the prospect of a proper mission – despite all the horrible things she'd endured back in the day, she found that she'd missed this particular part of being a hero. It was exciting to find a problem and then approach it, investigate and then possibly deal with some dangerous criminal. It wasn't just the knowledge that she was doing something good – helping people, saving lives – it was also the thrill of it, the unravelling of a mystery.

She smiled briefly to herself as she tailed Blue Beetle, the sound of her cape flapping behind her reaching her ears with every powerful beat of her wings. Oh yes, it felt good to be back, despite her feelings of uncertainty – as much as she enjoyed this, she still wasn't sure the Team was where she should be anymore.

Deciding to consider tonight a test of sorts, she pushed any lingering doubts away, choosing instead to focus on their mission. She needed to mentally prepare herself for what was to come – if she remembered correctly, things tended to blow up, both figuratively and quite literally, whenever the Team was on a mission. And she was out of training, so having her head in the game was crucial.

Once the mission was over, she would assess how she felt about where she belonged. For now, she'd act as though she belonged on the Team, act as though she'd never left.

"We're close." Blue spoke after they'd flown in silence for about ten minutes. They slowed down as he led them through the trees, landing in a crouch on the soft moss-covered forest floor.

Morgan landed in the tree beside him, figuring she'd scout a bit before reaching the ground. With her height disadvantage, she knew getting a general idea of her surroundings was a good idea before she went on. All around them, all she could see were trees. The wood was dense, the trees old and big. The air was stuffy, aided greatly by the warm summer they were having. Despite the thick cover, however, she could see a small sliver of the building they were looking for. She'd seen a picture of the place during the briefing in the Watchtower, and so she knew the grey mass she had spotted about a hundred yards away must've been the factory.

"I can see it." She spoke up as the rest landed and looked around at their surroundings. Jumping down, she landed in a crouch next to Supergirl. "Over there."

They walked in the direction she'd pointed once Blue beetle had looked at his GPS and confirmed that the building she'd seen was the correct one.

Making as little noise as possible, the six heroes crept close.

Abruptly, the trees ended, creating an open space of twenty feet around the whole building. A dirt road that looked like it had been used much once, but now rarely saw vehicles, cut through the trees beside them and all the way to the main gate of the factory.

The factory building in itself was not much to look at. Its grey concrete walls were cracked in some places, nature eroding the foreign mass, as if hoping to erase all signs of human touch.

"Alright squad." Blue interrupted her thoughts, crouching down behind a large overturned tree once they'd all gotten a good look at the building. The rest followed suit, gathering around him to hear what he had to say.

"Raven and Beast Boy, you're standing guard. Investigate the area and look out for anyone – or anything. I've got an eerie feeling about this place. So be on your guard. Contact us if you find anything."

Beast Boy and Raven nodded and slipped away at his request.

"Now, the building has four floors and a large storage room. Starfire and Sparrow, you start in the storage. If there's nothing there, work your way from the second floor and down. Supergirl and I will take the top floors. If any team sees anything suspicious, they contact the others, okay?"

Starfire and Sparrow both nodded and waited for him to give the go.

"Alright. Good luck guys." Blue got up, Supergirl close on his heels.

Knowing they had to get around the building to enter the warehouse, Sparrow motioned for Starfire to follow. They were alone now, and despite knowing they were on a mission and they needed to focus, Morgan still felt compelled to fill the silence. She was sure, with anybody else, she wouldn't have found the silence awkward. And it wasn't even Starfire who made it awkward – it was Morgan's own stupid brain.

"So.." She said after barely half a minute of silence. Immediately, she trailed off, having absolutely no idea what she was supposed to say.

"Yes?" Starfire inquired once several seconds had gone by without Morgan elaborating.

"So, we're there." She said, pointing at the entrance to the storage, glad it had conveniently provided her with a distraction.

Tip-toing closer, Morgan let out a small grunt as she forced the rusty door open. It was a small side door – much more inconspicuous than if they'd tried to open the huge gate that had been used to move cargo from the storage and onto trucks back when the place had still been used. If Sparrow remembered correctly, Blue had said the place had been an insecticide factory.

As they entered the warehouse, Morgan jumped out of her skin and bit back a startled cry as hundreds of _rats_ suddenly burst from all corners of the room and fled, rushing past them and through the door they'd opened. Starfire had quickly taken to the air and landed on a worktable next to the door, letting out a small squeal herself.

For a short moment, the chaotic pitter-patter and squeaks of the rodents invaded her ears, and then the place fell silent. The two girls' eyes met, wide eyed and confused.

"What the hell?" Morgan asked first. Starfire looked around the room, as if to spot more rats, though it was empty by now, before jumping down and aproaching her.

"I'm not sure what that was." She admitted. "But I would like to avoid it happening again."

"You can say that again." Sparrow agreed before walking further into the dimly lit warehouse. It was largely empty, a few tables and chairs flanking the walls. A box here and an abandoned tool there were the only things on the floor. Morgan approached a box, kicking at it lightly. Ants panicked and spread, running around in a frenzy as she disturbed their peaceful dwelling. A few cans of bugspray rolled out of the box as she tipped it over.

"There's nothing here." She sighed after their short and fruitless search. "I suggest we hit the main building, maybe we'll find something of interest there."

Starfire nodded.

They crossed the dirty, rat dropping-infested floor, reaching the door they hoped would lead them to the main building. Since the last door she opened resulted in having a few hundred rats run towards her, Morgan decided to let Starfire open this one.

"After you." She said, stepping to the side.

Starfire pulled at the handle, frowning when it was locked. Then, after only a second's hesitation, she ripped the door clean off its hinges, letting it rest against the wall beside them.

The room beyond was pitch black and both girls found themselves reluctant to enter without a source of light. Morgan's skin was already crawling all over. Not just because of the encounter with the rats, but from the overall feel of the place. She felt watched. The factory had a creepy feeling to it, like some horrible things had happened there and the very building had been contaminated by it.

Digging through the pouches resting at her hips, Morgan produced a small flashlight. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. Starfire produced a small flame of.. energy. It wasn't quite fire, but it looked close to it. It hovered above her hand, illuminating their faces with a green glow.

They shared a look of trepidation, both obviously feeling the eerie atmosphere of the place, and then they headed inside.

They'd barely taken four steps inside when something fairly large, fast and hairy passed by them, fleeing from the room and into the storage beyond. Morgan lept for the doorway, her eyes searching for whatever it had been – it had been the size of a small dog, but had moved like something.. else.

Her eyes grew wide and she swore she felt lightheaded for a second when she spotted the biggest spider she'd ever seen in her life. The thing scuttled across the storage floor and through the open door to the outsides, disappearing in the undergrowth.

"That was a spider!" She managed to get out in a hiss once her jaw unclenched and her throat stopped trying to close up. "A _spider_ the size of a cat!"

"Oh, that's right – you are afraid of spiders!" Starfire seemed to suddenly remember.

Morgan froze at her words. She swore only one person on the Team had known that she was afraid of spiders – Nightwing.

"How did you know that?" She asked, hoping her voice hadn't come across as aggresively as she felt.

Starfire shrugged and continued further inside the room, using the small flame in her hand to study their surroundings. "Nightwing told me on a mission once. There was a spider on my shoulder and he removed it, chuckling to himself and saying that, had I been you, I would have 'freaked out'."

Morgan's heart felt like it skipped several beats, and when it started again, it wasn't pumping blood, but lava, through her veins. It felt like her blood was boiling. She wasn't sure what she was feeling – it wasn't quite rage, but something close enough. She felt wretched, all of a sudden.

Just how close had those two been?

"Oh." Was all she responded as she followed after the alien. Starfire paused and looked back at her, her green eyes seeming thoughtful.

"You are troubled." She decided. "Should I not have brought it up?"

Morgan took in a deep breath and offered the taller girl a small smile. "Don't worry about it. We've got bigger fish to deal with right now – such as the fact that we just saw a spider the size of a freaking _cat."_

Starfire nodded. "Yes, that does seem unusual. However, Blue Beetle did say there had been reports of strange animal sightings."

"And now we certainly know those animals come from here – or somewhere nearby." Sparrow went on as they reached the end of the room. A new door stood, taunting them. She didn't want to know what sort of unpleasant animal waited for them at the other side.

"My turn, I guess." She sighed as they approached the door. She grasped the handle and pulled, cringing when it groaned loudly from being used after years of inactivity.

This time, netiher rats or spiders jumped out at them – thankfully. The room beyond was spacious, and large windows – though partly covered by curtains and dirt – allowed light to stream in, making it much less unsettling than the previous two. Office desks lined the room in three rows, looking dusty and dirty and gross. There were no animals there, but it was obvious there had been at some point – the place reeked of animal droppings and decay. A small pile of bones – some still covered in pieces of meat and fur – was nestled in the corner closest to them, explaning where the stench of death came from.

The pile of bones made Morgan think that this room wasn't necessarily less creepy than the others, after all.

Still, as they had yet to be attacked by any animals, she decided she liked it far better than the other two.

"Should we not contact Blue Beetle?" Starfire asked as she looked around, her green eyes lingering on the bones as well.

Sparrow shrugged as she walked further inside, heading for the door at the other end. "Probably. But we might as well scout a bit first. We haven't really encountered anything dangerous yet, so I think we're good."

She grasped the doorhandle, her confidence restored from the nonthreatening room, and swung the door open without a second thought.

A loud, angry grunt was heard immediately from the new room and three large _things _emerged. Sparrow jumped back and pressed herself against the wall to avoid getting trampled, and the creatures charged right past her, heading straight for Starfire.

"Starfire, watch out!" She yelled, watching with relief as the other hero jumped into the air and hovered out of the reach of the animals.

Her shout had gained their attention, however, and three pairs of wide, angry eyes trained on her. As she stared them down, Morgan realized the creatures were a strange cross between rhinos and buffalos. Their head seemed purely rhino, their dangerous horns wickedly sharp, their ears twitching with agitation. Their hide and front feet seemed buffalo in nature while their hindlegs were that of a rhino as well.

"What the-?" She mumbled before the creatures charged at her. Loud cursing left her lips as she jumped out of the way, leaping from table to table until she reached the end of the room and landed in a crouch on the table farthest from the rhino-buffalos.

"We're _not _good, we're _not _good." Morgan hissed under her breath, taking back her earlier statement.

The rhino-buffalos charged for her again, plowing right through the line of tables between them. Morgan spread her wings and took to the air, wishing she had more space to move in. Flying out of their reach was easy when you didn't have a huge wingspan to rely on.

"We've gotten knock them out of commission." She said as she approached Starfire. "And then contact Blue."

The other girl nodded and swooped down, punching one of the creatures in its side. The animal let out an angry sound, but stumbled on its legs. She delivered another punch, swerving to avoid the large horn on the creatures head.

Morgan landed on a table nestled against the wall and whistled loudly, gaining the attention of the other two.

"Come and get me!" She encouraged. The animals huffed out furious breaths of air before running at her. Morgan swallowed loudly as she forced herself to stay put for as long as possible, knowing she had to wait until the last moment if this was to work.

When they were mere feet from her, she flew out of the way, watching in satisfaction as one of them ran face-first into the wall, knocking itself out promptly.

_Big, not intelligent._

The other rhino-buffalo appeared smarter, because it swerved and avoided collision, looking up at her in rage.

Checking to see how her team mate was faring, Sparrow was pleased to see that Starfire had knocked out the other creature already.

"Yo! Starfire!" She called, gaining the other girl's attention.

The ginger looked at her as Morgan grabbed telekinetic hold of the rhino and threw it towards her. Starfire aimed her fist and waited for the animal to reach her before delivering a knock-out punch.

With a loud crash, the creature fell to the floor, smashing through two office tables.

The entire fight had stirred up quite a lot of dust, so Morgan coughed lightly as silence settled after the chaotic scene.

"That was.. something." She said after a moment. "We should probably contact Blue."

She pressed a hand to her ear and spoke. "Blue – we've encountered a bunch of seriously weird animals."

Waiting for Jaime to respond, Morgan walked to Starfire's side, looking down at the ugly animal at her feet. Briefly, Morgan wondered if they'd killed it, but she could see dust being disturbed by its breath. It made her want to leave the room, unsure when the animals would wake up again.

"_Us too." _Blue's voice suddenly cut across her thoughts. "_Where are you?" _

"I think it's the ground floor. We entered the building from the warehouse."

"_Keep investigating the building – something weird is clearly going on here. We need to find out more." _

"Roger that." Morgan ended the conversation, turning to Starfire. "Let's go."

They went from room to room on the entire floor, finding nothing else of substantial interest. A short encounter with a family of bats – which Morgan fond a bit ironic – and a beetle the size of a mouse were all they encountered. Eventually, they reached the lobby, of sorts. There was the main entrance and a lot of doors, a map of the place and an elevator.

"We should probably head to the basement – that's were the creepy stuff usually happens. My bet is we'll find what we're looking for there."

They decided to ignore the elevator, figuring it would give them away as well as potentionally trap them. The stairs were a slower, but safer bet.

As they descended, it got steadily colder and wetter. Soon, condensation was gathered on the smooth, white walls, slipping down in droplets. The fluorescent light over their heads blinked in and out of commission until, as they reached the end of the staircase, it gave up completely, none of the lights working.

There was a door there. Morgan grumbled about it internally. So far, all the doors they'd opened had let to some unsettling or downright dangerous encounter.

"Too many goddamn doors on this mission.." She sighed.

Starfire smiled slightly at her, a loopsided thing that made Morgan like the girl slightly more than. It spoke of someone with a wry sense of humor, which she really appreciated.

_Okay, here goes.._

She opened the door and the two girls peaked inside. It was a large room, brightly lit with white, smooth walls. It was clearly a laboratory of some sort, glasses filled with concoctions, computers running equations, papers strewn about..

And in the midst of it all was a tall and slim man. He wore a white lab coat and his blond hair stuck in all directions, like he'd been electrocuted. He ran a hand through it, displaying how it had come to look like it did. He was mumbling to himself as he stood crouched over something on a table in front of him. The two of them could't see what it was yet, and as the man hadn't noticed them yet, they chose to stay by the door to scan him and the room for a moment longer before they approached.

In front of them was a set of stairs that led down into the room. To their right was a steel bridge, which flanked the place along the wall. They snuck through the door and onto the bridge, keeping to the shadows in the corners to hide their movements. The room was displayed better now. But they still couldn't see what the man was looking at on the table.

"_Blue Beetle," _A voice said in both their ears. The sudden appearance of Raven's voice startled Morgan and she took a small step back, her wings fluttering in instinctual distress. Thankfully the man in the room didn't notice them though she had made some noise.

"_What is it, Raven?" _Their leader asked immediately. Raven's voice had been calm as she spoke, but it had held a small tremor of worry, which worried all of them as Raven was usually calm and emotionless.

"_Beast Boy is gone._" She explained. "_We agreed to split up to circle the building and then meet up afterwards. It shouldn't have taken more than a few minutes, but he's been gone for ten."_

Morgan's stomach clenched when, infront of them, the man stood straight, still mumbling to himself, and walked frantically towards one of his computers, typing away immediately. Since he had moved, the two girls could finally see what he had been examining, and they both let out a small gasp as the unconscious body of Beast Boy lay there.

* * *

I'm finally back from camp, which means I finally got to post this chapter!

Fun fact: I only just wrote the ending of this chapter. Usually the stuff is written weeks in advance, but for some reason, I kept putting off writing this mission, and then I'd suddenly reached the part where my document simply said *will add scene later* and I was like 'shit', bc now I had to write an entire chapter in a few days, or it'd be posted late.


	11. Comfort Drinking

**Chapter Eleven: Comfort Drinking**

* * *

"Guys," Morgan whispered into her com, low enough for the people on the other line to hear, but not their enemy. "We've found him."

"_Beast Boy?" _Blue asked.

"Yes. He is unconscious. A man is.. examining him." Starfire elaborated.

"W_here are you?" _

"In the basement. He is alone. Do we engage?"

"_We're on our way." _Blue offered as an answer. "_Raven, stay put and keep watch, but be prepared to come if we need you."_

The two girls kept watching as the man finished whatever he'd been typing. He approached another table, filled with tools, grabbing a syringe.

Urgency filled Morgan and she turned to Starfire. "Alright, time to go." She said, taking a step closer to the railing, prepared to jump down and kick the sucker's teeth in.

The other girl looked like she wanted to point out that Blue had told them to wait, but she didn't. Besides, Blue hadn't actually said they should wait for the others to arrive. He'd said they were coming. And the guy was about to use a syringe on Garfield for some undoubtedly unsavory reason – neither of them were going to let that slide.

"I'll get BB to safety – restrain the mad scientist so we can have a chat with him."

She swooped down and headed for her unconscious team mate right as Starfire landed beside the guy and grabbed onto his lab coat. He let out a very unmanly squeal at the sudden appearance of the two heroes. Starfire lifted him clean off the floor and his legs kicked out uselessly as he dangled from her grip.

Morgan approached Beast Boy with haste, bringing a hand to his wrist. "His pulse is strong." She told Starfire over the sound of the whimpering and struggling stranger. "He's fine, just knocked out."

"Let me go!" The man protested weakly.

Starfire didn't budge and Morgan simply rolled her eyes as she picked up Beast Boy and headed for the door, placing him on the stairs. It was more because she wanted to get him further away from the man than anything else.

"No – NO! Don't take him away! I need him!" The man almost sounded on the verge of tears, which surprised the two heroes. They exchanged a confused and curious look as Morgan marched back there, not attempting to hide her fury. The man had tried to hurt her friend – and not just any friend. He'd tried to hurt Garfield, one of the first people she'd bonded with on the Team.

He cowered under the murderous look on her face, his fear most likely aided by the fact that he was being restrained by another, incredibly strong hero.

"Two questions, asshole," Sparrow said, holding up two fingers once she'd reached him. "Who the hell are you and what the hell were you doing to my friend?"

He kept looking between her and Beast boy, looking like the green skinned boy was a priced artifact that they were going to take from him.

"I need him. To save the animals!" The man said instead of actually answering her question.

She took a step closer, grabbing onto the front of his white coat, wishing she didn't have to look _way_ up to meet his wide, brown eyes. "Start talking."

"I-I I have to save them – all the animals! The poor animals." He responded, letting out a small groan as if he was in great pain by the thought. "They'll kill them all – the-the rhino's and the t-tigers and the pandas! Just like the Dodo birds, they'll all disappear if I don't save them!"

Things were starting to make more sense to Sparrow. True, the guy stammered and rambled, but she figured she understood what was going on. Endangered species and a boy that could transform into any animal he wished? If the man was enough of a fanatic – and clever enough too – it was obvious that he would try to use Beast Boy, if he got the chance.

"And you think Beast Boy can help?" She attempted to reel in her anger. The man looked utterly pathetic. He was practically reduced to tears, sobbing as he hung limply in Starfire's grasp. There was no need to be cruel to him, especially when he seemed so utterly harmless. She motioned for Starfire to put the man down, but she made sure to stay between him and Beat Boy at all costs. Starfire stood close behind him, ready to grab him if he attempted to run away.

"Not-not him. His DNA." The man responded, seeming to calm down slightly now that he was back on the ground and the blonde in front of him had gotten less hostile. "If – if I can discover the secret to his powers, I can use it to save the animals."

"Sorry pal, you should've asked for permission first." Morgan grumbled, walking towards Beast Boy. "Let's go. Meet up with the others."

Starfire held onto the man's shoulder as Morgan picked up Beast Boy. The three of them made their way out of the room and up the stairs once again. Unlike the complete silene they'd been surrounded by as they descended the staircase, the air was now filled with sniffles and sobs as the man halfheartedly resisted Starfire's grip. They stepped inside the lobby just as Blue Beetle and Supergirl came barreling through another door, slamming it closed behind them. Something on the other side growled fiercly and the door shook as it was hit with force. The two blue-clad heroes pushed against it to keep it shut.

"Blue! Supergirl!" Sparrow called to gain their attention. They looked over at the trio, spotting the uncnscious boy in her grip.

"Guys!"Blue approached. "Nice work!"

"Thanks," Morgan responded just as a large roar pierced the air. The scientist dude whimpered at the sound. "Uh – what's behind the door?" She asked next, using a forcibly calm tone.

A loud bang echoed once more, the force strong enough to actually move Supergirl several inches from the door. And Supergirl had superstrenght!

"Uh," Blue grimaced. "You don't wanna know, _ese." _

"Great." She instantly responded. "Then let's go before I find out anyway."

Blue nodded, holding a hand to his ear. "Raven, meet us outside the front entrance."

Their small group took to the air as Blue blasted a hole through the front door, racing out of the building just as the doors Supergirl had kept shut exploded, large creatures emerging. Morgan almost lost altitude in her shock as she spotted the lions – they were the size of cars, huge muscles underneath their golden fur. Razor sharp teeth glinted in the sunlight as they snarled at the airborne heroes.

They didn't stop to wait for Raven, determined to lose the animals before they could follow them. The girl had spotted them as they left he building and so she met up with them a moment later. They flew as fast as they could, ignoring the terrified squeals of their prisoner as he clung to Starfire's arm, obviously frightened by the altitude.

He must've been pretty smart when he had somehow managed to crossbreed animals and tamper with their DNA. Crossbreeding buffalos and rhinos were impressive enough, but hge-ass lions? Morgan was secretly impressed.

Starfire and Sparrow filled the others in as they flew back. Blue immediately sent a notice to the League, who proceeded to send a team to capture all the animals in the building. They met up with the police in Metropolis, who took away the sobbing man. In a way, Morgan almost felt bad for him – He was obvious mentally unstable, but clearly cared greatly about saving those animals. Maybe he was simply misguided. His motive was good – unfortunately, his method hadn't been.

Garfield had regained consciousness moments after they arrived back at the Watchtower. He seemed disoriented, but Starfire filled him in, Raven walking by his side almost protectively as the three of them headed for the infirmary to make sure the man hadn't done anything to him.

Supergirl smiled prettily at their team leader and congratualted all of them on a successful mission. Then she left too, heading back to Metropolis, no doubt.

Sparrow and Blue Beetle were alone then and silence settled for a moment.

"Thanks for letting me come with." She said as she watched him fill out a mission report on the holographic screen. "I needed it more than I realized."

Blue smirked slightly. "Fight with the ex again?" He quipped.

Morgan sighed, smiling wryly. "That obvious?" She asked. He didn't respond with anything other than a shrug. His joke had reminded her of anothing thing she'd intended to ask him, though, so she took in a deep breath and spewed out her question. "Did you do it on purpose? Pair up Starfire and I?"

"I admit I might've figured it was a good idea if the two of you got to know each other."He said, not sounding like he was the least bit ashamed by his meddling. "I'm the leader of the Team, so it's my duty to make sure that the members get along."

"I'm not really a member, though." Morgan reminded him.

He shrugged with one shoulder. "Suit yourself. I still figured it was a good idea."

"And you're probably right. I'm.. glad I got to know her a little better."

Raven, Starfire and Beast Boy returned just then, approaching the two of them. Morgan squeezed Blue's arm, deciding she should probably take her leave.

"I'll see you guys around. Thanks for an exciting evening." She said as she walked by the three others. Starfire smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I enjoyed working with you." She said.

Morgan returned the smile with a small grin. "You too. Hopefully we'll get to do it again some time!"

She waved goodbye before leaving the room, feeling lighter than when she'd arrived at the Watchtower an hour prior.

* * *

July 6th

It was becoming harder and harder to keep pretending to be mad at Morgan. Especially because it was so obvious that she was trying her very best to not get on his nerves. He almost felt bad every time he glared at her despite her best efforts.

He swore he was doing this for her own good. And for his. Nothing good was going to come out of them trying to patch up that friendship they'd once had. It would be a distraction, which he didn't need. And it would bring unnecessary drama and sorrow into her life, which _she_ didn't need.

No, staying at an emotional distance was for the best. But it was also difficult.

Because she was making it so hard to keep being angry with her for no reason. He was constantly reminded of the 'good' old days every time he saw her, constantly remembering how close they'd been back then.

And then she had to audacity to show up in the basement in the middle of the night in nothing but a short, damp towel. Dick liked to think he was a disciplined kind of guy, but she was making it hard for him to control his own actions when she did stuff like that.

The strange thing was that she'd looked just as surprised as he'd been.

Her eyes had been wide and she'd been biting into her bottom lip like she always did when she was nervous.

He'd wanted to pry that bottom lip from her teeth with his own so he could nibble on it himself, draw those sweet sighs from her like he'd done back in the day. Leave kisses along the trails of water running down her body, take her in his arms and remove that towel which had kept her body from him. He wanted to breathe in her scent and burry himself deep in her –

Woah.

Stop _just_ a _minute_.

This was _so_ not the time to indulge in his entirely unwelcome sexual fantasies. He was trying to track down the Joker, for crying out loud.

Letting out a deep sigh, he supported his head in his hands and ran one through his hair. Dick remembered the night of Bruce's death very clearly.

He remembered the five shapes he'd seen. And he knew they represented the people responsible for Batman's death. If he wanted revenge, he had to track down those five people and bring them to justice.

Unfortunately, he didn't actually know who those five shapes had belonged to. The smoke and the heat surrounding him, added with the tears in his stinging eyes, had blurred his vision to the point where the people had been nothing but vague outlines.

The only thing he had to go on was that laughter he'd heard. Joker.

So he was going after the Joker, currently. Only, the mad man was being frustratingly silent. Especially for the usually over the top schemes he liked to pull when he was out of Arkham.

He'd hit a dead end for now, much to his own annoyance. So here he was, fuming over his lack of process and general failure as Batman, and trying to push thoughts of Morgan out of his mind again and again. She shouldn't even be important enough for him to so stubbornly refuse to think about.

Why and how did she manage to worm herself back into his life despite him doing his damndest to avoid it?

She'd offered to help him investigate. She had told him she wanted to help him avenge Batman.

And Dick hated how extremely tempted he'd been to accept her offer. He could remember their old partnership. All those nights spent patrolling. All those afternoons used tracking down her dad. Digging up dirt on Fathiya. Going undercover to that fundraiser. They'd been a good team, confident in the other's ability to perform their duty, working together in a kind of synchronized order he'd only experienced with Batman and occasionally the other Batkids.

He'd helped her with all of that. And now she said she wanted to return the favor.

"_Not for Bruce. For you."_

He clenched his jaw and shook his head. If he thought too much about it, he'd end up convincing himself to let her help. And he didn't want or need her help. He was doing _fine_ on his own.

Well, sort of on his own. Robin still went with him on patrols. But Dick hadn't let the boy help him with tracking down the five shapes either. This was something he'd do alone. He couldn't burden Damian with the extra work of trying to track down the people who had killed his father. Besides, Dick wanted Damian to work with the Team as much as possible. The boy needed to hang out with people his own age.

Dick ran a gloved hand through his hair and rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to chase his tiredness away. He was averaging on two to three hours of sleep a night, and by now he was pretty sure no amount of painkillers would be able to get rid of the headache he was permanently sporting. It felt like his entire brain was being stabbed, throbbing painfully with each beat of his heart.

For the first time in weeks, he decided that sleep would have to be a priority. He didn't have any leads on the Joker right now, so there was no reason for him to stay in the Batcave all night in hopes of something turning up.

He got up from his seat and unclasped the utility belt around his waist. He was making to remove the suit entirely when the police radio in the Batcomputer blared to life.

"_Break in at Ace Chemicals. Requesting back up – we think we might've sighted Joker there." _

His eyes widened behind the cowl he'd been about to push off. For a small moment, he stood frozen as their words sunk in.

Possible Joker sighting.

He grabbed hold of the utility belt and re-fastened it around his waist, marching towards the Batmobile. His mind was racing, all traces of tiredness gone the instant he'd heard that name over the radio.

This was his chance.

Joker was going down.

* * *

A black, gloved fist came hurtling down on an unsuspecting trashcan lid. The lid dented beyond usage, but Dick's anger wasn't satisfied yet.

He'd lost him. Let the Joker slip right through his fingers.

Batman had arrived at Ace Chemicals and slipped into the building unnoticed. It had only taken him a few minutes to locate the grinning lunatic, and he'd felt rage boil his blood at the mere sight of him.

This man had taken so much from Dick's family. He'd killed Jason, and he'd been involved in Bruce's death too.

Granted, Jason _had_ come back. Only not as Dick younger brother, but as a dangerous outlaw that danced along the line between villain and hero.

"You should've stayed hidden." Batman had spoken in the quiet darkness, trying to make his voice as gravelly and intimidating as Bruce's had been. It just didn't come as naturally to Dick as it had to Bruce. He was too young still.

Joker stilled his movements for a moment before letting out a piercing laugh, turning in his spot to locate the dark knight.

"I was _hoping_ you'd make an appearance, little bat!" He cackled.

Dick hated that joker _knew_ he wasn't the old – _real_ – Batman. After five months, he still felt like he was playing masquerade. A kid dressing up in his dad's clothes.

A bird trying to be a bat.

"You're going to regret hoping that." He promised darkly, finally emerging from the shadows. Joker's eyes stopped darting around the room when he revealed himself.

With a growl, Batman launched himself at the Joker, closing his hand around his throat, pushing him against the wall behind them.

This felt incredibly satisfying, he noted, as he dug his fingers pointedly into the clown's throat.

"C'mon Boy Wonder, ya ain't gonna kill me." Joker wheezed between laughter as Dick kept cutting off his air supply. "Not if you want to find out who _really_ killed your daddy."

"I _heard_ you!" Batman protested. "You were there! _You_ killed him!"

Joker shrugged. "True!" He giggled. "But I didn't do it alone. You know that."

"And, what, you're going to tell me their names if I don't suffocate you?" Batman scoffed.

Joker nodded, still smiling that crazy grin.

Batman tightened his hand just slightly before letting go.

Joker wheezed and coughed as he bent over on his knees, shifting between laughing loudly and taking in deep gulps of breaths.

"That was _dark!" _He laughed. "Doesn't really seem like Batsy's style."

Dick scowled. He didn't like that the _Joker_ of all people were telling him that he'd gotten darker than Bruce had been. This was a crazy murderer, he shouldn't be judging.

"Alright, cub. Listen up." Joker clapped his hands together like they were two business partners and not opposing forces in the fight for good and evil.

Batman mentally gave Joker two minutes. If he was still wasting his time by then, he'd knock him out and deliver him to the police.

"You see, we _want_ you to track us down. That's the plan!" Joker vaguely began.

"Who're we?" Batman sharply asked.

Joker cackled again. "See, it's a bit embarrassing. I personally thought we should've called ourselves something else, but the big guy insisted. We're 'The Darkness'."

The Darkness.

_Right._

"I need names, Joker."

"Ah, but that's the fun part. You're gonna have to find those on your own." Joker grinned, giggling as if the entire conversation was the funniest thing. "If you want help, I'd track down the Riddler. That guy likes riddles, I've heard."

His two minutes were up, Batman decided. This was a waste of his time.

Unfortunately, it seemed Joker had decided his two minutes were up as well. Because before Dick had the time to react, Joker threw a smoke bomb between them. Toxic, green smoke erupted between them and Batman immediately covered his nose with his cape and took a few steps backwards.

A single, eerie laugh echoed between them, and then Joker was gone. Just like that.

_No, no, no, no – DAMNIT!_

And now, here he was, standing in a dark alley, punching a trash can lid because he was too angry to function.

The urge to scream at the night sky was overwhelming.

_I failed you, Bruce._

He clenched his fists by his sides and, with a flick of his cape, exited the alley and found the Batmobile. A minute later, he was speeding towards the Manor.

Dick couldn't remember when he'd last felt so absolutely lousy. He'd thought that time would heal all wounds, but every time he pulled on the suit and patrolled Gotham as Batman, that wound was still fresh and bleeding.

Now, added with the extreme anger he felt – both aimed at Joker and himself – and the crippling insecurity, he was ready to explode. Dick didn't feel worthy of the suit yet. Every time he failed, he felt like he was failing his legacy, letting Bruce down.

He'd trained for this for _twelve years_ and now that he was here, he sucked.

Dick let out a small growl and sped up, determined to reach the Batcave as soon as possible.

He had work to do.

As annoying as Joker had been, he got the feeling he'd offered up the clue Dick needed for a breakthrough in his digging.

He had a name now, at the very least. The Darkness. Unbelievably tacky and kind of a 'The Light' knock-off, but a name nonetheless. And Dick hadn't missed the way Joker had mentioned Riddler. Perhaps Batman would do well to track _that_ green-clad pestilence down.

The sound of the engine from the Batmobile hadn't even died off completely when Dick was out of the car and by the Batcomputer.

He set the computer to start scanning, searching on the internet and any other place available for anything related to the Darkness.

Once he'd done this, Dick was tempted to just settle himself in the chair and watch the computer progress for the rest of the night.

Instead, he decided to blow off some steam. He was still silently fuming from his failure in capturing Joker. He left the Batcave, planning to head towards the gym. The small clock on the desk in the study told him the time was already past one AM, but he hardly cared.

Halfway to the gym, he paused his steps. If he remembered correctly, he hadn't had anything to drink since that afternoon. And nothing to eat either, for that matter. He'd probably do well to at least grab a bottle of water from the kitchen before he started exercising.

He turned in his spot and headed for the kitchen instead.

When he approached, he was that the kitchen door was opened slightly, light streaming out from the small crack. He frowned. Alfred never let any light on once he went to bed.

As he pushed the door opened, he blinked once he laid eyes on Morgan. She was nursing a glass of whiskey, of all things. A plate of salted crackers – Something Dick was loath to admit that he remembered she _loved_ – was next to her.

Dick was tired and angry and itching to go exercise, but the sight of her was like a balm, and he felt instantly drawn. He was also curious to know why she was in the kitchen at one AM with what was clearly comfort drinking.

She looked up upon his entry, her grey eyes blinking at his sudden appearance. Then she offered him a small smile and took a large sip of her whiskey.

Dick sighed and – just this once he told himself – gave in to the urge to approach her.

* * *

Morgan couldn't sleep. She'd decided to give herself a small break and skip patrol tonight. So, she had decided to get to bed early – catch up to some of that sleep she'd been neglecting.

Turning in bed and letting out a deep sigh, she glanced at her alarm and groaned in frustration. It was past midnight already and she'd gone to bed at ten PM.

She couldn't fall asleep because she was so _worried_ and _miserable_. Dick was ruining her because he was ruining himself. What annoyed her most was actually how much she was letting him get to her. He hadn't been there for dinner tonight. He usually wasn't, but for some reason, tonight had nagged her more than usual.

Maybe it was because his skipping dinner was such a clear sign of how little progress she was making. He _wasn't_ getting better. She wasn't getting through to him.

Morgan gave up trying to sleep and slipped out from underneath her covers.

She remembered something her _farfar_ always told her when she'd lived with them in Denmark.

Supposedly, he kept a bottle of liquor under his bed, and if he ever had trouble sleeping, he'd simply pull it out and drink a shot, and he'd sleep peacefully the rest of the night.

Well, Morgan wasn't sure she bought the method, but it wouldn't harm her to try.

She slipped from her room and down the dark halls of the manor, heading straight for the kitchen. Once there, she flickered on the lights, blinking furiously as the light assaulted her eyes very suddenly. Then she pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass and poured herself a shot.

Morgan closed her eyes and counted to three before downing the entire thing in a single gulp. She shivered and scrunched up her face at the unpleasant feeling of the liquor burning down her throat. Coughing once, she sat down by the island in the kitchen, pouring herself another glass. This time, she simply sipped slowly at it. It was far less unpleasant like this.

After a few minutes, she located some crackers too and put them on a plate in front of her. The whiskey didn't really make her tired, but she kept sipping at it anyway.

Because, at some point, the drinking had gone from being meant to put her to sleep to being comfort drinking. She wasn't sure when it had happened, but here she was.

She was in the middle of contemplating how sad and pathetic that made her when the kitchen door swung open fully. The man who'd been occupying her thoughts the entire night was now occupying her eyesight as well.

As usual, he kind of looked like shit. He had large bags under his blood shot eyes and his mouth was set in a permanent frown. Morgan remembered that he'd had stubble covering his cheeks yesterday, but he must've shaved it off today because he'd had to go to the office.

She blinked at him for a moment before smiling slightly, trying to put him at ease. She wasn't sure she could handle an argument right now.

He sighed visibly and approached her silently. Then, he plopped himself down in the chair next to hers, to Morgan's extreme surprise. For a moment, they simply sat there. Then Morgan stood and pulled out an extra glass. She poured some of the golden liquid in the second glass and pushed it towards him. His long fingers wrapped around the glass and he downed it without a word.

As he drank, it occurred to Morgan that they might've been down here for the same reason.

"What are you doing down here in the middle of the night?" He said, sounding like he was straining to keep his tone neutral. He sounded tired – resigned.

"Comfort drinking." She shrugged, stuffing a cracker into her mouth.

"You're not even old enough to drink." Dick pointed out, sounding tired all of a sudden.

Morgan rolled her eyes and took another sip of her glass just to spite him. "Gimme a break, I turn twenty one next week."

She'd actually briefly forgotten that she wasn't old enough. In Denmark, the legal drinking age was sixteen, meaning she'd been drinking alcohol legally for the past two years.

He turned in his seat and leaned on his elbow, studying her. She poured him another shot and he drank half of it before placing the glass on the cool counter, looking at her again.

"Why are you comfort drinking?" He eventually asked. Like that much shouldn't have been obvious.

Morgan wanted to lie, but as usual, she knew he'd detect a lie the moment she told it.

"You, dammit." She bit out. "I'm comfort drinking because of _you_."

Dick sighed like he'd known that was what she'd say, but instead of snapping at her or leaving like he usually would, he simply took another sip from his shot glass.

Morgan raised both eyebrows. This wasn't the reaction she'd expected.

They sat in silence again.

Morgan made sure to keep both of their glasses full, suspecting his newfound not-as-hostile-as-usual attitude might've been because of the liquor.

He was on his third glass already.

"You should eat some crackers." Morgan advised. "So you don't actually get drunk."

Dick shrugged. "Probably." He agreed, though he didn't eat any.

Eventually, both of them stood up, making to go their separate ways.

"You're going to the gym, aren't you?" Morgan asked him. She wasn't sure how she could tell, but there'd been this sort of nervous energy around him, like he'd been itching to go exercise.

Dick nodded.

Morgan bit down on her lip and studied him. He needed sleep, not exercise.

"Do me a favor?" She asked uncertainly.

He frowned at her before slowly shrugging. "Depends."

"Don't go to the gym. Get some sleep. You need it." She worried that her boldness wouldn't pay off and that he'd glare and snap at her before storming off.

But for some reason, he slumped and let out a deep sigh. "Fine."

Suddenly, he looked like sleep was all he wanted. Then his eyes latched onto her face and roamed over her features with an unidentifiable look, and Morgan shivered as she wondered if sleep was truly the only thing he wanted.

Silently, the two of them walked down the hall and up the stairs together. It wasn't as much that they _wanted_ to go together, their rooms just happened to be right next to each others, and pretending the other person wasn't there while walking would've been more awkward.

Eventually, they reached their rooms. Morgan paused by her door and watched out of the corner of her eyes as he approached his.

Tonight had been.. different. She wondered if the lack of sleep and the strange time and setting of their encounter was what caused it. Either way, he'd been strangely civil. It gave her the courage to repeat the offer she'd made once before.

"Dick.." She spoke up. He halted his steps and turned to face her just as she looked up at him. With four long strides, she was by his side, gazing up at him with open eyes and a small smile on her face.

"I.. I _want_ to help." She reminded him. "You don't have to do this alone. You _shouldn't_ have to do this alone."

He looked down at her with intense eyes, betraying his otherwise carefully blank face.

Morgan unconsciously shuffled a tiny step closer, tilting her head a bit as she studied him.

As they kept their eyes trained on each other, it was like a dam was breaking. Suddenly, Dick's gaze shifted, and he took a large step forward. Morgan met him halfway there and let herself get swept up in his arms, meeting his lips instantly in a brusque, feverish kiss.

It felt like hitting the water's surface after minutes of submersion. It felt like, for the past two years, the entire world had been tilting dangerously, but was now slipping back into place. Morgan's entire body seemed to prickle with delight and recognition, a single thought ringing clear in her mind.

_Finally._

His touch was familiar and new. Her skin burned whereever he touched her, her senses singing out that this felt _right, right, right._

And she wasn't sure if this was purely the alcohol speaking or some old leftover reactions from their previous relationship, but she hardly cared. She was in his arms and they were making out and it felt _good. _

Dick's hands left her waist and traveled down over her butt and to the back of her thighs. Morgan let her feet leave the floor and instantly – instinctively – wrapped her legs around his torso, pulling herself so close her chest was pressed against his. She was running her fingers through his hair and listening to her heart pound and her blood rorar in her ears. Holding onto his jawline, she could feel his quickened pulse as well and she smield with the knowledge that the effect wasn't onesided.

Dick backed her into the wall behind them, his long, calloused fingers sneaking underneath the cotton of her shorts and grabbing her ass. His touch sent hot shocks from her nerve ends to her brain, making Morgan shiver and smile into the kiss. Her hands were pulling his face closer, the kiss turning desperate. It was so very obvious that they'd both missed this.

Eventually, Dick's mouth broke from hers and he turned his attention to her jaw, leaving a trail of hot, sloppy kisses along her throat and collarbone.

Morgan recognized this particular touch, recalled when he'd last done it. She knew what came next and the thought of it sent shivers of anticipation up and down her spine.

She tugged at his hair and he left her collarbone, looking up at her with hooded and dilated eyes that spoke clearly of his lust. In response, Morgan moved her hips against his body in a slow, sensual move that forced a low groan from him. She could feel his breath on her collarbone as his leaned his face against it.

Morgan claimed his lips with hers again, smiling when he pulled away from the wall, fumbling around for his doorknob. A moment later, he found it and pulled, opening the door. Stepping through, he shut it with his foot behind them.

Now that they were inside of his room, Morgan felt his lips still and his body stiffen as if he was having second thoughts. She wasn't about to let him – if they were doing this, they were going all the way.

She broke from his mouth and breathed hotly on the side of his face as she found his ear. She placed a kiss right next to it before whispering two single words that made all of his doubts disappear immediately.

"_Take me."_

* * *

Ok funny story, I'm a blushing, christian, inexperienced, never-been-kissed virgin and some of this shit was SO HARD to write because I got so awkward. And it's not even that graphic, oh god. I swear, I had to write it in small bits bc I'd get so awkward I had to LEAVE. What a dork.

Anyway, whoop, they did the do. Good on them. Working dat shit out guys.

Fun fact: I got the idea for the animal thing after watching a documentary on poaching. I figured, if passionate and desperate enough, some people would probably go to some lenghts to save species.


	12. The Difference

**Chapter Twelve: The Difference**

* * *

July 13th, 2016

The first time Morgan ever slept with Dick – or just her first time, period – had been on her nineteenth birthday.

Honestly, it had been brewing between them for several days at that point. Originally, Morgan had been determined to wait until after she came back from her short trip to Denmark, but at this point she didn't care anymore. A weight had settled in her stomach a few days before, telling her that it was now or _never._ He wanted it. She wanted it. So why wait?

That night, he'd kissed her goodnight by her guestroom door at the Manor, and then he'd left for his own room. Okay, a simply goodnight kiss was understating things. They'd been hardcore making out against her door until he'd pulled back abruptly, leaving her flushing, out or breath and far from sated.

Morgan had been standing outside of her bedroom, at war with herself for a long moment before she'd given in to temptation. At least ten minutes must've passed before she moved again.

This was her last day before she left. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it _now._

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she walked down the dark halls of Wayne Manor. The two of them had gone for a long walk that had ended up taking at least an hour longer than they'd planned. They'd gotten back at around eleven at night, which was when Dick had walked her to her door and kissed her goodnight.

The sun had set some time ago and everyone else had gone to bed, leaving the halls dark and deserted. It was fine. She knew the way to his room easily by now, and she'd also like to avoid meeting anyone on the way. Questions would be asked. And she'd probably chicken out.

So the darkness suited her just fine as she sneaked down the halls and up the stairs.

Reaching his room, Morgan saw light seep out from underneath his door and was glad to know that he at least hadn't gone to bed yet. That would've been awkward.

She knocked softly on the wood and swallowed down nerves. This was nothing to be nervous about.

Okay, it was totally something to be nervous about, but she wouldn't be. This was _Dick._ _Nightwing._

She trusted him.

He answered the door a moment later, looking really confused to see her there. He opened his mouth to speak.

Morgan didn't really give him time to. She grabbed hold of the front of the tank top he was wearing and pulled him down, hoping that her kiss would somehow explain for her.

His large hands snaked along her arms, holding onto her shoulders and pulling her closer.

They were still standing in his doorway, so Morgan stepped inside and shut the door behind her with her foot.

She was still kissing him, procrastinating on letting her true intent show because she really _was_ nervous. The worst part was the pretty irrational fear that he'd actually reject her. That he wouldn't want it.

And it was a _ridiculous _fear because she _knew_ he wanted to. His hands had been all over her for days now and she'd absolutely returned the favor.

He picked her up effortlessly and Morgan rested her right arm, still immobile and useless in its cast, on his shoulder. His hands stayed on her thighs, making sure she didn't fall off of him.

She'd been nervous about letting her true intentions show, but now that she was in his embrace, mind short-circuiting from the burning kiss he was giving her, she found that advancing was the most natural thing ever.

Taking in a deep breath, like a diver about to take a deep plunge off a huge cliff, she rocked her hips once against his torso in a way that was blatantly suggestive and entirely sexual.

The effect was quite immediate as Dick went completely still, his lips freezing against hers. Then he pulled back and looked at her with an expression she was having a hard time deciphering.

"Are you sure?" He wanted to know. He looked uncertain.

Morgan understood why. Out of the two of them, she was the horribly inexperienced one. And she knew he didn't want her to feel pressured, the gentleman.

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't've walked all the way to your room. That's a lot of stairs." She point out jokingly. She fixed him with a confident look to let him know that she really _was_ sure. He smiled softly at her before kissing her again, small pecks on her mouth that made her grin and swallow down a giggle from the cuteness of it.

His grip on her thighs tightened and he took a step towards his bed, where he set her down and broke from her mouth before crawling onto the bed himself. They sat there for a short while, simply eyeing each other with a strange mix of anticipation and reluctance.

Then Dick bent down to meet her lips with his, one hand resting on the back of her neck, his thumb brushing against her ear.

It was a slow kiss, and entirely romantic. Morgan sighed into it and leaned her front against him, prompting him to let go. He started trailing affectionate kisses along her jaw line and throat, eventually reaching her collarbone, both of his hands digging into her hair. The room was silent save for their slightly elated breathing, but the blood rushing in her ears almost drowned it out. Her entire body seemed to prickle with awareness of everywhere he touched her. It was like electricity coursing through her, originating at the base of her throat, where his lips and tongue were doing terrible things to her.

Morgan's fingers traveled down his chest and stomach until she reached the hem of the tight tank top. Her touch was feather light as she tugged at it, her fingertips coming into contact with his skin underneath.

She blushed when Dick immediately let go of her and pulled the tank top clean off, giving her that glorious and nervewracking view of his bare torso. It felt silly to start blushing. It wasn't like they'd be having sex with their clothes on. In a way, it was more his total willingness to expose himself like that, even though she'd seen him undressed in such a fashion before, that made her blush. It was a sign of trust and eagerness that she found flattering.

If she kept going like this, she'd be beet red by the time they reached his pants.

_God,_ she was such a virgin.

She let her eyes roam him freely, knowing that it was _okay_ to do so. The sight of his firm muscles, broad shoulders and just all around perfectly proportioned body made her dryly swallow nerves down. His bare upper body alone was enough to make her feel entirely insufficient.

Letting her broken right arm rest against her thighs, her left hand hovered between the two of them in hesitation, since she was not entirely sure if it'd be weird if she touched him. She really wanted to though.

Dick obviously sensed her hesitation and smirked – which looked really sexy, _god – _before assuring her. "You can touch me, Morgan."

She met his eyes and quirked a small, lopsided smile, easily seeing the funny side of her unsure and timid behavior. It was so opposite of her usual behavior, but this was entirely new territory. New, nervewracking territory.

So, now that she'd literally gotten vocal permission, she let her hand travel along his torso, gliding upwards until she was wrapping him in a hug. It was an innocent gesture, but she needed the reassurance and the calming effect his hugs always gave her. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest as it pressed against his stomach.

His arms immediately snaked around her smaller form, letting Morgan rest her curly head against his chest. She breathed out deeply and placed a kiss on his warm, smooth skin before pulling back again. As she did, she felt the familiar weight of her wings settle on her back, and realized that Dick had unclasped her new charmed pendant while they hugged. It was a huge relief and reassurance that he chose to let her wings be visible while they did this.

She met his eyes as he pulled the necklace away and let it slip from his fingers to the floor. His intense and unblinking gaze made her blush again and she redirected her eyes. Unfortunately, she just ended up focusing on his bare chest then.

He had scars. Big and small, old and new scattered across his upper body.

There was a particularly large one on his left bicep that she wondered how she hadn't noticed before. Impulsively, she trailed it softly with a finger before placing a light kiss on it.

In response, Dick ran his thumb along the long, thin scar on her left forearm, the white line a permanent reminder of that one time she'd tried to patrol behind his back.

He had scars. But then again, so did she. And neither his nor hers bothered her. They told stories.

She went back to tracing his muscles, wanting to familiarize herself with this body that was about to join with her own. He let her take her sweet time, and she was immensily glad for it. She had never given much thought to how her first time would be, but one thing she'd always known was that she didn't want it to feel rushed. She wanted to take things at the right pace, allow herself to know the other person's body before they truly began.

Funnily enough, it was something her mom had told her. She'd given Morgan the talk a few years back, and she'd made sure the teenager knew that her first time probably wouldn't be perfect, but it was important she set it at a pace she was comfortable with. It was supposed to feel good, not rushed.

So she took her sweet time getting to know him, ignoring his chuckles at her thorough studies.

Before she could stop herself, she pulled a grimace and let out a small whimper. "You're so unfair. How is anyone supposed to compete again _that?"_ She gestured vaguely to just all of him before sighing and letting her hands fall to her sides, indicating she was finished exploring for now.

He tilted his head and frowned briefly at her. "This isn't a contest, Morgan." He pointed out, smiling wryly.

Then, his large hands inched towards her and she got up on her knees to allow him better access to the hem of her t-shirt, which he promptly made to slip over her head. It was difficult work because she had a big pair of wings _and_ a large cast on her right arm, but with a bit of worming and maneuvering, and a _lot _of laughing, the t-shirt was removed, leaving her in only her bra.

She stiffened slightly, feeling exposed. She wasn't scared or nervous, more aware of the fact that she'd never been this lightly dressed in front of a boy before – at least in such an intimate setting.

Now, it was Dick turn to let his eyes roam around exposed skin. Morgan briefly recalled the girls she knew were his ex girlfriends and came to the realization that she was far less endowed than them. It made her slightly anxious because it kind of meant he was used to 'better'. It was a strange feeling. Morgan had never felt bad about her own body, but his approval meant a lot to her. She _wanted_ to please him because she already knew he'd do his absolute best to please her.

She didn't get to voice her concern because Dick smiled at her then and placed a kiss on her forehead. "See? Not a contest." He kissed along her temple and down her cheek, reaching a point right below her jaw that made Morgan sigh softly in pleasure. "You're beautiful."

He kept his attention on that spot as his hands wandered, and a new thought occurred to Morgan. She'd heard from so many people, movies, and books that the first time for a girl was going to hurt.

"Dick?" She whispered, already slightly breathless from his scorching touch.

"Mm?" The mumbled answer vibrated against her neck and the hand she had resting over his beating heart.

Her tongue darted out to wet her swollen lips as she tried to get the words out. "Is it going to hurt?" She eventually managed.

He paused his work on her neck and leaned back to look at her, and Morgan instantly felt the absence. Dick brushed a curl away from her forehead and tugged it behind her ear, offering her a tender look.

"Not if I do my job properly." He promised, quirking a small, crooked grin. His confident answer put her at ease and she leaned in to kiss him again. She breathed in deeply, her senses overcome by his scent.

She lost herself in him for the rest of the night. And he in her.

No matter what went wrong between them after that, after those two years or being apart, Morgan would never regret that night. He'd cared for her and guided her through the entire thing with patience and love, and Morgan had felt and experienced things she'd never tried before. Looking back on it later, she had realized that it had been much more than sex. They'd been making love.

And she'd fully believed it back then. She'd given herself completely to this boy she'd genuinely thought she was falling in love with.

Now.. She'd never regret that night, but she wondered whether those feelings of what she'd thought was love had been genuine or if they'd only been a product of a night of passion. If they'd simply been the fancy of a young, foolish girl who'd had so little experience in the field of love that she didn't know the difference between a crush and actual, true affection. Didn't know the difference between lust and love.

And to be honest, two years later, she wasn't sure she'd learned to tell the difference yet.

* * *

July 7th

Morgan woke slowly, frowning with closed eyes as she wondered why the sun was at the wrong side of the room. Also, she couldn't really move. Something large and heavy was wrapped around her stomach area and her legs were tangled with.. more legs.

Then, as she opened her eyes and peaked over her shoulder to identify the warm mass that was pressed against her back, last night came back to her. The sight of a tousled mop of black hair, a handsome, masculine face peeking out from behind the tresses, jogged her memory quite suddenly. She had to stop herself from bolting upright in his bed in her shock, as this would probably wake him. And she'd like to avoid that.

She lay unmoving for a while, trying to figure out how exactly to escape his decidedly possessive and _tight_ hold.

Of course, being stuck gave her lots of time to evaluate her situation.

She'd had sex with Dick last night.

Personally, she blamed the whiskey.

Morgan wasn't entirely sure if that had been a really bad idea, or a really good idea. It'd certainly _felt_ good – amazing, even – but was she prepared to fully face the consequences her actions would bring?

Two years ago, she'd woken up in a similar fashion in his room. Back then, waking up in his arms and lying for a while to feel his chest move up and down in his sleep had brought her nothing but joy and such a deep sense of comfort.

Now, she felt only worry and slight regret. Unlike the last time, she knew he wouldn't wake up and look utterly adorable with his bed head and soft smile and then kiss her deeply before they engaged in a repeat performance from the night before. Most likely, he'd close off again and wear that horrible, blank look before disappearing into his bathroom to wash the scent of her completely from his body.

Morgan remembered how she'd lain in his arms, wondering if traveling to Denmark was the right thing to do. She had an amazing guy, friends, family and _purpose, _right here. Was a trip to another country really going to help her find herself? Had she ever even truly lost herself or was she just in a momentary period of uncertainty and hurt because of the things she'd gone through in the past eight months?

But she'd gone on that trip. And she'd found parts of herself, but that had more to do with Morgan growing older than her change of scenery.

In the end, now that she was back and saw what she should've been here to prevent, Morgan doubted more than ever if that trip had been the right thing to do. And she wondered if she'd take her two years of absence back if she could. Wondered if it would've changed anything.

Wondered if she and Dick would've been in the middle of planning their wedding, just liked they'd been doing in the alternate timeline at this point of their lives.

As she lay in his arms, the two of them as physically close as they were mentally apart, Morgan asked herself if that was a future that was entirely lost. And she asked herself if it could've been salvaged if she'd chosen differently.

She also had to truly wonder if she'd even want that future back. Once upon a time, she'd thought she was so sure what she felt. She missed him, but was that just because she missed what they'd once _had_? Dick would always mean something special to her, but did she s falling in love with this boy quickly turning into a man, but that had been a long time ago. Now, she wasn'ttill have _feelings_ for him?

Despite evidence speaking against it – she _was_ currently curled up in his bed next to him, both of them naked because of last night's activities – Morgan actually wasn't sure. There was _something_ there. But unlike two years ago, she was now unsure if she should identify it as simple lust or actual, honest to god feelings of love – or affection at the very least.

Her own thoughts made Morgan entirely uncomfortable and so she cast them aside, opting to work on escaping instead.

She slowly slipped her legs from his and shifted her whole body away until they were only connected by his arms around her stomach.

She wrapped her much smaller fingers around his and pulled them away from her exposed skin. Eventually, she'd loosened his grip enough to slide out of it completely, and she stood on slightly shaky legs. They'd been unsteady the last time too. And now, two years later, spending the night with him still affected her body _that_ strongly. Maybe it was more the physical strain. Who knew.

He was still sleeping soundly. Morgan wasn't sure if it was because of the alcohol he'd consumed the night before, his general exhaustion, or the sex, but he was completely gone. Maybe it was a combination of the three. She figured that was a good thing. He needed that sleep. Anything to remove those dark, permanent bruises under his eyes.

A hand reached up to tentatively touched the pendant hanging from its chain around her neck.

He hadn't asked her to take it off this time.

Reaching forward to pull one the white sheets from his bed, she wrapped it around her body. The sheet had been covering most of him, and his bare body lay before her now, only covered from his hips to his knees in another crinkled, white sheet.

She bit into her bottom lip when she found herself unable to look away for a moment, clearly remembering the night they'd just spent together.

It had been light years from their first time together. He hadn't been gentle, guiding and patient, but needy, powerful and passionate, and Morgan had been just as eager. She eyed the scratch marks she had left on his shoulder blades and upper back, blending in with old scars she recognized, and new scars he must've gotten while she was away.

Could sex be angry? Because it had been. He'd been angry with her, with himself and with the world, and so had she, even as they both succumbed to whatever pull had been between them – had always been between them.

He sighed deeply in his sleep and turned onto his back. Morgan, afraid that he was waking up, wrapped the blanket tighter around her body, holding it up with one hand, and walked silently towards his door. It opened with a semi-loud creak, and she winced, looking back at his large, slumbering form to make sure it hadn't woken him.

He didn't move at all, so she slipped quietly through the door and closed it behind her.

Once the door was closed, she turned and faced the hall.

Horror was her most prominent emotion when she realized her small escape had been witnessed by Tim. He was standing by his own bedroom door, one hand on the doorknob as he'd been about to close it. Now, he was just staring at her with a wide eyed look.

Morgan shuffled uncomfortably in her very obviously post-sex state, giving him an unexpectedly vulnerable look.

"Don't judge me." She said, just loud enough for him to hear. She'd fallen for temptation. She'd given in to an urge she'd struggled with since the moment she stepped into the Batcave to see Dick again for the first time in two years. Surely, Tim wouldn't condemn her for that. Maybe her actions had been selfish, and maybe she'd just completely ruined all the work she'd done to get close to him and gain his trust again, but she'd never wanted that to happen. She'd been weak, for a moment. Surely, Tim knew what that felt like.

Besides, Tim was the one who'd been joking about seducing Dick all this time.

He raised a slow eyebrow. "Normally, I would.." He admitted before pointing a casual finger at her current state. "But that right there means you're actually getting somewhere. You're getting through to him."

She offered him a sad smile which he returned with a shrug and a blameless look before walking silently down the hall. Morgan disappeared inside her own room to take a hurried shower.

In the end, she figured angry sex was better than angry silence and hateful glares. And she supposed that should've made her feel better, but Morgan felt.. empty. She was unsure what it said about her and her character that she jumped back in his bed the second he let her, damning the consequences because one night of pleasure had apparently been more important.

She sighed deeply and ran a hand through her newly washed hair, feeling absolutely lousy. Morgan wanted to be out of the house before Dick woke up, so she dressed quickly and jogged to the kitchen, not bothering with drying her hair completely or putting on any make up. It occurred to her that she'd left her clothes from last night in his room, strewn across his floor and bed. She felt compelled to go and retrieve it, remove all evidence of her ever being in his room, but she stayed put. If she woke him up now, she wasn't sure what she'd do.

She swallowed down a quick breakfast and promised Alfred she'd get home to do her chores in an hour. He must've sensed something was different because he let her leave with no complaints and even let her borrow one of the better cars.

She was speeding down the road towards Gotham a few minutes later, heading for the nearest pharmacy. Five minutes later, she miraculously managed to find a parking spot. Knowing the nearest pharmacy wasn't that far off, and she'd be stupid to try and find a parking spot that was closer to it – unoccupied parking spaces were few and far in between in Gotham City – Morgan quickly park the car and locked it behind her. Pocketing her keys, she stuffed her hands into the pockets as well and walked quickly down the street. A few minutes later, she reached the pharmacy shop and slipped inside.

The shop was mostly empty that morning, save for an old lady speaking to the cashier. In her squeaky, old-lady voice, she asked about all the different bottles of vitamins she'd dumped on the cash register. The young, acne suffering teenage boy behind the register was trying to patiently answer her questions, even thought it was obvious that he didn't really know anything about the vitamins either.

Morgan drowned out their voices and headed for the back of the room, specifically the shelf with different kinds of birth controls. Walking by all the condoms and birth control pills, she paused when she found what she'd been looking for. She took out a few different sorts of morning-after pills and compared them before settling for the most expensive one. After all, with her father's Will and life insurance, she'd gotten quite a large sum of money, and she could easily afford to spend a few extra dollars if the pills then did their job probably.

There was a small, unflattering picture of a cartoon fetus on the side of the box with a large, red 'X' over it. Underneath it, it said, in big red letters, 'fetus away!'. It made the thing look more like a pest control and Morgan wasn't sure she approved of the inappropriate joke.

She stayed by the shelf and waited for the old lady to finish her interrogation. Eventually, the lady left, having only purchased one of the glasses of vitamins, leaving the tired cashier boy to put the rest back in their place with a sigh.

Morgan slipped silently towards the cash register and put the small box on the counter, fidgeting as she waited for the teenager to get back so he could ring up her purchase.

He came back a minute later, muttering an apology for making her wait. She shrugged as she absentmindedly studied the shelf with sugar free candy next to the register, saying that it was fine.

Looking back at the guy, she determined he must've been somewhere between sixteen and eighteen years old. Just from that one look, she could tell he was the meek kind. the acne and glasses were sure to label him a 'nerd' in school, and the way his shoulders hunched and his brown hair stuck in every-which way probably wasn't helping much.

She figured that, at the very least, she could be a friendly stranger. No reason to be the jerk customer.

He picked up the box and upon realizing what it was, blushed, making his face, which was already pretty red from all the zits, completely tomato in color.

Morgan offered him a small, sheepish smile, like they were sharing in some inside joke, and he quickly rung up her pills and accepted the money she handed him. He put the small box in a white bag with the shop's green logo on the side.

Her phone started vibrating in her pocket then. Morgan grabbed the plastic bag he was pushing towards her with a cheerful thanks and walked swiftly out of the shop, calling out a 'have a good day!' over her shoulder.

Once her feet touched the pavement outside, she dug out her phone and answered without looking at the caller ID.

"This is Morgan."

"_Miss Jørgensen_?" An unfamiliar man on the other side asked for clarification.

"That's me." She agreed. "Can I help you?"

"_You are the daughter of Abigail Grant, correct_?"

"Uh, yeah." Morgan frowned. "What's this about?"

"_Miss, I'm calling from Gotham Memorial hospital. Your mother was in an accident."_

Morgan's heart took a deep plunge in her chest. Her grip on the plastic bag slipped, falling to the ground below, the blue box inside peeking a corner out from the bag. "W-what?"

"She's currently unconscious and we're not sure when she'll wake up. As her closest relative – "

"I'm coming." Morgan interrupted immediately, blinking tears away. She didn't even know how bad it was yet, and she was already crying. She ended the call abruptly and let the phone stay in her clenched fist, her arm hanging limply by her side.

Picking the bag off of the ground, she stuffed it in her pocket before running back towards the car as fast as her legs could carry her.

* * *

these horny teenagers istg.

I hope that wasn't extremely cringeworthy. Seriously, I was having a hard time telling myself. Like, I've got no idea what somebody's first time is supposed to be like, but I know how I think it _ought_ to be. Idk. if you found it unrealistic, keep in mind that I'm _clueless_.

Also, yay, Morgan's mom is going to become a more prominent figure in her story now! I like Abigail a lot, tbh. I'm looking forward to seeing more of her.

Fun fact: The last chapter from Feathers is gone from my doc-list. So it's finished for good, now.


	13. Honoring the Dead

**Chapter Thirteen: Honoring the Dead**

* * *

He woke up in a slow, lazy way, the sort of waking where everything feels warm and comfortable and your thoughts are blissfully blank. Then his mind cleared quite suddenly and he shot up, supported on his arms, looking around his room as he realized several things at the same time.

First, it was _late_. Later than he'd slept for years.

Second, though his head felt heavy from the alcohol he'd consumed the night before, his body felt well-rested and relaxed. In fact, despite the slight headache, he felt better than he had in a long time.

And third, but _oh god, most importantly_, he had had sex with Morgan. He eyed her bra uncomfortably as it lay innocently at the foot of his bed.

She wasn't here anymore – he wasn't sure how he felt about that yet – but there were signs of her presence everywhere. Her clothes were scattered around his room and he could still smell the scent of her all over his skin. The sheets were rumpled beside him, and he reached a hand out, finding that the spot she'd been sleeping in was now cold. He wasn't sure when she'd left, but it had been long enough for the bed to grow cold.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply, sitting there for another long moment. Eventually, her scent coming from the bed and the sheets and his own body became too much and he got up, heading for his shower to remove it completely. For the first time since he could remember, he felt awkward by his own nudity, mainly because it was such a dead giveaway of what he'd done the night before.

He wasn't sure what time it was, but he found he didn't care. He spent at least half an hour in the shower, the water scorching hot as he scrubbed his skin raw, wishing it would somehow also scrub away the memories assaulting all of his senses. Every time he closed his eyes, he recalled her naked body beneath him and every time he turned off the water, the sound of her moans took over. He swore he could still feel her hands on his body and it only prompted him to scrub harder until he was red and sore.

Eventually, he forced himself to get out of the shower, knowing that it was all in his head. He reentered his room and looked around at the clothes scattered about, his mingling with hers, and he felt the urge to return to the water and repeat his cleansing process.

He shook his head as he dressed, hurridly gathering up all their clothes and his bedsheets, stuffing all of it into his laundry basket. With the physical evidence of their actions removed, he felt less trapped already. The sight of his room, so invaded by her presece without the girl actually physically being there, had made him feel strangely trapped. Like he couldn't escape his actions or their consequences. Like as soon as he stepped outside his room, reality would kick him in the ass and force him to deal with this unfortuante turn of events.

His own thoughts certainly weren't letting him catch a break.

God dammit, this had to be on his top ten list of things he regretted. Dick didn't do casual sex – he didn't sleep with a girl he wasn't in a relationship with. And the fact that this wasn't just some girl he liked, but his ex-girlfriend almost made things worse.

He wondered what this meant. Was she going to leave? Would they pretend it never happened?

He wasn't sure which one he prefered. True, a few weeks ago, he would've rejoiced at the thought of Morgan leaving. It would have made his life infinitely less complicated. But he wasn't sure it was what he wanted anymore. A part of him – a part that seemed to take over a tiny bit by bit – wanted her around. That part of him wanted to see her each day, wanted to see her smile – wanted to be the one to make her smile – wanted to laugh with her and hold her and have sex with her without regretting it the next day.

He suspected it was the small part of him that had somehow survived from their relationship two years ago, a small sliver of that teenage boy in love. The small part that somehow hadn't given up hope that such a future wasn't completely lost. It was the part that reminded him that they'd been married in a different timeline.

It was the part he was ignoring everyday because it hurt like shit. Dick didn't normally consider himself a coward – and he didn't necessarily in this case either. He was keeping her at an arms length for her own good.

He did harbor resentment towards her. He hated that she never came back. That he apparently hadn't been enough to return to. But even though he kept a tight grip on the resentment, he could still feel it slipping a tiny bit every day. It was like sand slipping through his fingers. He so wished he could keep up the resentment though, because it was so much easier to focus on than what he felt besides it.

As he emerged from his room, he decided he wouldn't think about it anymore. It was like pandora's box – if he thought too much about why he was clinging to his anger and what he truly felt underneath it, he wasn't sure he would like the answer. So he didn't. He focused on taking each step, heading for the kitchen. He had cast a quick glance at his watch as he left, and so he knew it was past three in the afternoon already. His stomach was growling viciously, the result of not having eaten for twenty four hours.

As he reached the kitchen, he was surprised to find every other residence of the household in there – everyone save for Morgan. Alfred was doing dishes by the sink, Tim was doing his homework and Damian was eating, sneaking Titus bits and pieces of his sandwich.

But no Morgan. He had to bit into his tongue to stop himself from asking them where she was – he told himself he didn't care. To be honest, he hadn't expected her to be there, so he wasn't exactly surprised.

Everyone looked up simultaneously as he entered, the room dead silent. Damian and Alfred turned back to what they'd been doing before, but Tim kept watching him, his face taken over by a strained look as his eyes studied him with more scrutiny and intelligence than usual.

Dick ignored him for now, an unpleasant shiver running down his spine as he started to suspect Tim knew exactly what was going on.

Well, _shit._

He practically slumped down in his seat, his body heavy and sluggish. He wasn't sure if it was because he'd slept eleven hours straight or because he was sporting a slight hangover. Running a hand through his still damp hair, he offered Alfred a small thanks as the butler placed a plate of last night's leftovers in front of him. The pastasalad was just what his famished stomach needed, though he'd have preferred soemthing hot.

Silence reigned which wasn't necessarily unusual, especially not in the past few months, but it felt different somehow. Strained.

He wondered just the hell was going on, but didn't ask. If they all knew what had happened between him and Morgan last night, well, then he would prefer if they shut up about it – sweep it under the rug just like all the other shit in their lives.

And if it was something else.. Well, then he knew he'd find out sooner or later.

He ignored Tim's steady gaze on him and wolfed down his food. Eventually, Damian finished his sandwich and left the room, Titus following close by his heels. In their stead, Alfred the cat arrived, pawing and complaining at Alfred the butler's heels until he fed it.

As Alfred dug through their cupboards in search of catfood, Tim leaned close and fixed Dick with a look he couldn't ignore.

"Why don't we step outside for a moment?" He asked, the words polite and his voice calm. Dick blinked at him, praying to god this wasn't about what he thought it was about. Sighing, he stood from his chair and allowed Tim to lead them out of the kitchen and into some shadowy corner of the hall.

"What?" He asked shortly, trying not to sound too annoyed or guilty.

Tim studied him again, looking like Dick was a puzzle he was trying very hard to solve.

"Morgan is at the hospital." He eventually explained.

Dick drew back in surprise, instantly thinking the worst.

Tim shook his head before Dick could ask what had happened to her. "Her mom was in an accident. She was hit by a car. The doctors don't know if she'll survive yet."

Dick felt guilty about it, but his first reaction was somehow relief, having thought for a moment that Morgan had gotten hurt. Then he felt sympathy sweep over him, and worry for Abigail. He didn't know the woman well, but he'd encountered her a few times back when he'd been Morgan's mentor. She was a sweet woman and a loving mother.

The familiar stinging in his chest reminded him that he knew all too well what it felt like to lose a parent. And he knew Morgan knew as well. If she lost her mom – she'd be parentless. Just like him.

Shit, it still stung even after all these years.

"I'm going to go there now." Tim told him. "You should come too."

Dick frowned and shook his head – he was pretty sure he was the last person Morgan wanted to see. "Why?" He asked, instead of voicing his true thoughts.

Tim furrowed his brow at him, a frown that quickly turned into a glare as he took a step closer – Dick was struck with how tall the kid had gotten lately.

"I think you damn well know why." He said sharply, knowingly. "You owe her that much."

Dick sighed harshly because it just _had_ to be Tim finding out about that thing he wanted absolutely no one to know about.

"I can't, Tim." He told him honestly. "She should be allowed to focus on her mom without this other situation hanging over her head."

Tim shook his head and rolled his eyes, clearly fed up. "You're a goddamn idiot – but fine. Don't come. I don't care."

He left Dick to stand alone in the hall. He stayed there for a moment, staring at the spot Tim had disappeared from.

_Dammit._

* * *

July 11th

The cemetery was largely empty, and somehow, despite it being in the middle of the summer, the trees around her looked like it was winter, the leaves scattered and brown. Perhaps being in a place of death had literally killed them.

A chilly wind was whipping at her loose, blonde curls, partially covering the view of the grave in front of her. She could hear footsteps behind her on the gravel road. For a moment, she stayed where she was, figuring the person was here for someone else. People visiting dead loved ones wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence. When the footsteps slowed down as they got ever closer, Morgan turned and peeked over her shoulder while blinking away tears, wondering how Dick had known to look for her here.

His hands were stuffed into his black jacket and the way he approached her was cautious, like she was a wounded animal he was afraid would pounce at him if he got too close. He wasn't really looking at her face, his eyes darting around the cemetery, only touching upon her form occasionally before immediately skittering across their surroundings again.

Morgan turned back around and stuffed her hands into the front pocket of her large hoodie, waiting for him to speak first. She wasn't sure why he was here, why he'd chosen to seek her out now after having avoided her for five days.

He stopped next to her as Morgan's eyes traced the letters upon her father's gravestone. She hadn't visited his slot since his funeral over two years ago, but given the events of the past few days, she'd felt compelled to go to it.

Morgan bit into her bottom lip and blinked wetly up at the overcast sky above, the angle sweeping her hair from her face. She'd already lost one parent. Wasn't that enough?

Dick still didn't speak. Eventually, Morgan drew in a deep breath and felt the need to break the silence.

She wished more than anything that they could just go back to the way things had been two years ago. Back then, their friendship and relationship had been based entirely on mutual trust and a clear understanding of how the other person worked. They'd lost both of those things, and Morgan missed it so much. She missed being able to tell him everything, all of her worries and fears, and hopes and dreams.

Perhaps it was these thoughts that compelled her to speak up. She wanted him to know that she still trusted him, and so telling him of her thoughts wasn't that difficult. It felt.. familiar.

"It's strange.." She began, hearing the ruffle of his clothes as his head shift towards her at the sound of her voice. "I know I'm supposed to feel this ache by looking at his grave. But I don't." She admitted. "I mean.. I did mourn him when he died, he was my _dad _after all, no matter how screwed up he had been. But now I just.. don't really care. The man caused so much heartache in my life that I can't bring myself to pretend to miss him. He wasn't really in my life when he was alive anyway. And it's like I'm supposed to forgive all of that because he died tragically."

Dick seemed to weigh her words while a new silence stretched between them. Morgan was determined to not be the one to break it again. He'd found _her_. If he wanted conversation, he'd have to provide it.

"Honoring the dead was always such a strange sentiment anyway." He eventually murmured, his voice void of emotion. Morgan wondered where the two of them even stood now. She hadn't exactly had the time to speak to him in the past five days and now she couldn't tell if his emotionless tone was a good or a bad thing.

She looked up at the overcast sky again and angrily wiped at tears busily trickling down her cheeks. Morgan hated crying, and especially when she'd just said she wasn't really sad about her dad. It was more tears of frustration over her situation with Dick, and sadness that her mother's life had just been completely and irrevocably uprooted.

"Isn't that what you're doing though?" She asked without any real malice or accusation in her voice. She knew his situation with Bruce was different. And he knew that she knew, so he didn't answer.

"How is she?" Dick asked instead. Morgan breathed out a deep sigh and shrugged numbly.

"She'll live." And that was pretty much the only light side of this. "But she broke her _spine_. The doctors say she won't ever walk again."

Her mom was confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life because some dumbass driver forgot that a red light meant 'stop'.

Morgan's jaw tensed and her fists clenched at the thought. She'd always told her mom to take better care in traffic..

She spent most of her time protecting people and working towards a better future, but she hadn't been there when her own mom needed her most to protect her and _her_ future.

It seemed like the only thing Morgan was good at. Not being there when the people that meant the most to her needed her.

Morgan looked over at Dick and tugged a stray curl behind her ear, biting into her bottom lip. She hadn't been there when he'd needed her either.

"It'll take over a month before she can even leave the hospital. And then all the physical therapy.." She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, un-tugging that curl she'd just placed behind her ear, ignoring it when it bounced in front of her eyes again. "I mean, we can afford it with the money I inherited from dad, but still.."

Her mom loved being a nurse. Loved helping people. And now she couldn't do that anymore. Now, she was the one who'd need help all the time.

Morgan should've been there to stop it. She should've been there, but she'd been too busy screwing Dick flippin' Grayson.

And the screwing had actually been caused by Morgan not having been there when Dick needed her too.

The thought made her look at her former mentor again. Suddenly, she was spilling the words she'd wanted to say since the moment she laid eyes on him almost six weeks ago. She'd kept them to herself because she knew they were dangerous, but now she was facing him and looking earnestly up at him, willing the man to understand the sincerity of what she said.

"I'm sorry I left." She began, hoping it wasn't too obvious that she'd been crying. "I was stupid and selfish and scared and I shouldn't have left."

Dick was regarding her with a carefully blank face, his eyes tracing her features with an unreadable look. His hands were still tugged in the pockets of his long, black coat, the collar pulled up around his jaw as if he'd been trying to hide his face. It made sense. He was Dick Grayson, adopted son of the late Bruce Wayne, and the paparazzi tended to stalk him whenever he was in Gotham.

Morgan wanted to say more, but he pressed his lips together and shook his head once, looking briefly at their feet before looking into her eyes for the first time since he'd approached her in the cemetery. It was a shake that meant she shouldn't say anymore because it wouldn't end well – it was a warning – and so Morgan snapped her mouth shut.

In the end, she decided his blank look was better than the death glares she'd gotten for the past month.

He didn't offer her any kind of answer, simply looked over his shoulder to make sure they were alone before sighing deeply and let his tall frame sag slightly. Suddenly, he looked utterly exhausted and at least ten years older. A hand came up to rub at his temple as he closed his eyes, looking like he was unsuccessfully trying to fight off a headache.

"I'll let you help me track them down. His killers."

Morgan felt her heart begin to speed up as his words registered and she realized what he was saying.

If she hadn't felt so utterly wretched, Morgan was pretty sure she'd be beaming at him. As it were, she offered him a small, sad smile once he reopened his eyes.

impulsively, she reached a hand forward and clasped fabric from his sleeve in it, shivering when she could feel his warm, strong arm underneath the thin material. It occurred to her that the last time she'd touched him had been when they'd slept together, and so she hurried to say her part so she could let go of the sleeve.

"Thanks.." She murmured. "I won't let you down."

Then, she let her hand fall back to her side limply. She'd let it drop in an arch, and so it had brushed the fabric of his coat the entire way down. Once she reached his hand, his pinky finger hooked onto hers for a moment, and Dick look down at the connected digits before back up at her with an expression that somehow said everything and yet nothing at the same time.

He took a step back and released her hand, severing both the physical and emotional contact between them.

"I'm heading for the Manor." He said. "Do you need a lift?"

Morgan would've probably preferred to walk there, actually. She'd like half an hour to herself, nothing but her and that stretch of road. But she accepted because she understood what this really was: An outstretched hand. The promise to try.

She offered him a small smile and sniffled once, feeling the tears finally subside. "I'd like that." Was her soft response.

He didn't return the smile, but he didn't scowl at her either, so Morgan considered it progress.

The car ride was ridiculously tense and silent, but Morgan ignored it, thinking it was better than shouting. Dick was a good driver, as good as she remembered him to be. She trusted him enough to lean back in her seat and rest her eyes for a few minutes, exhausted from her last few days. Morgan hadn't actually been at the Manor since her mom's accident, choosing to stay at the hospital. Whenever the doctors had told her to go home and _rest_, she headed for her mom's apartment instead because it was closer.

She was still wearing the clothes she'd worn when she'd left the Manor four days ago. And sleep was something she'd neglected too.

Ten minutes later, Dick parked the car in the garage of the huge estate, pausing for a second before slipping out. Morgan had almost fallen asleep, but the sudden absence of the engine's hum woke her up, and she blinked at the semi-darkness in the garage before getting out as well.

Dick had offered her a lift, but that was it, so he'd already disappeared inside the mansion by the time Morgan had left the car.

She tugged her jacket closer around herself and headed for the door leading from the garage to the kitchen. The place was blessedly empty and Morgan managed to slip unnoticed through the mansion until she reached her own room.

Upon reaching her bedroom, she shrugged off her jacket and threw it onto the desk in the right corner of the room, letting her tired and sore body slump back onto her bed. Morgan let out a deep sigh and slung an arm over her eyes, blocking out the late afternoon sunlight.

A ruffle of clothing to her side made Morgan drop the arm and look up. Her jacket had slipped off of the table, now lying in a small heap on the floor.

Tempted to ignore it, Morgan stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds. Then she forced herself to sit up and get off the bed, tiredly approaching the jacket. She grabbed hold of the hem and pulled it off the floor, not noticing she was holding it upside down. The contents of its pocket fell to the floor below, and Morgan's eyes instantly found the small, white plastic bag that had fallen out, lying innocently on the floor.

Picking it up, it took Morgan a moment to remember what it was. Then she pulled the content out, eyeing the blue box silently. Panic swept over her for a moment and her hands shook slightly.

She'd completely forgotten to take the morning after pill. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she quickly relaxed when she read on the back of the package. The pills worked up to five days after sex, meaning she still had time. Cutting it a little close, true, but she would still make it before her deadline.

Walking into the bathroom, Morgan forced the packaging open and took the first pill in the row. Popping it into her mouth, she gulped down a mouthful of water. There, problem solved.

Briefly, she studied herself in her mirror. Those sleepless nights were really showing, her eyes bloodshot with bags underneath. Her skin looked paler than usual, more sickly. The bruises Dick had left along her neck and jawline were almost gone now, faded to a faint yellow. She refused to call them lovebites, because they were anything but. What they'd done had nothing to do with love.

At least, she thought so.

She let the pills stay by her sink and left the bathroom again, unbuttoning her jeans and slipping them off on her way towards the bed. Her head hit her pillow and Morgan felt her mind turn into a comfortable haze as her eyes fluttered shut.

* * *

I really like that last scene - they tots bonded.

Hey guys! This chapter is a bit short, but that's because the enxt chapter is kinda long. Yay.

So we've finally gotten a bit of progress! Dick's letting her work with him!

Fun fact: I really don't have to time to come up with a fun fact bc Assassins Creed: Black Flag is just about done being installed on my playstation and now imma go play dat shit. See ya next week!


	14. Date Night

**Chapter Fourteen: Date Night**

* * *

July 12th, 2016

"Let's go on a date tonight."

Morgan looked over at Dick, who was fixing her with an intense and excited look.

"A date?" She repeated. Wasn't that what they'd been doing for the past two weeks?

"You know, a proper date. Dinner reservation at a fancy restaurant, nice clothes, the whole shebang."

Morgan smiled and put the cards in her hands down, their previous game now the furthest thing from her mind. "You got any specific place in mind?"

Dick nodded, smiling crookedly and handsomly. "As a matter of fact, I do."

Morgan nodded then, still grinning. "Alright then."

"I'll pick you up at seven?" He joked, since 'picking up' was a bit bit difficult when they were staying at the same house.

She nodded, smiling goofily. Then she looked at her watch, noticing she had two hours. "I guess I'd better go get ready, then."

Getting up from the table, she let him catch her around her left arm, pulling her to him and planting a slow kiss on her lips before Morgan left the living room. Forcing herself to walk at a pace below outright running, she tried to regain control of her face as she kept grinning hugely. She was practically bouncing in her own steps.

Closing her door behind her, she realized she'd need backup for this. A date wasn't a proper date if you hadn't gotten ready with much squealing and assistance from your friends. Or so Morgan had been informed by Karen and Cassie.

Morgan dug her phone out of her pocket and found M'gann's number. She hoped the Martian wasn't on a mission currently, as she was the girl in the group who styled hair best. And Morgan's hair needed all the help it could get.

M'gann picked up after three rings. Once she heard what it was about, she promised she'd be there in twenty minutes with backup.

Moan wasn't entirely sure who the backup consisted of, but she didn't complain as she stripped and headed for a shower, figuring it was best she used the twenty minutes of waiting for something useful. Like shaving her legs.

Almost exactly twenty minutes later, M'gann, Barbara and Artemis forced their way inside her room, arms ladden with everything she could possible need – and some things she quite possibly did _not_ need – for getting ready.

"I know Cassie is the best at make up, but since we're the only ones who knows about Nightwing's true identity, you're stuck with us." Barbara smirked, putting aside what Morgan recognized as a dress bag.

Artemis stayed a bit in the background, probably a combination of her knowing Morgan the least and because she was still grieving over the loss of her boyfriend. Morgan wondered if perhaps it had been cruel to drag her along for a date preparation thing when she'd just lost her own boyfriend. Wasn't that salt in the wound?

Still, Morgan smiled and greeted her just as enthusiastically as the other two, hoping to let the taller blonde feel as welcome and wanted as possible.

"Artemis designed and created her costume all by herself, so she's pretty needle savvy, which we'll need." M'gann explained as Artemis settled her bag on the floor and pulled out what appeared to be the contents of an entire sewing workshop.

"Sewing? For what?" she asked even as she started to realize she could probably guess what they were planning.

Barbara zipped open the clothing bag and pulled out a lot of red fabric – though, once Morgan looked at it properly, she decided it probably didn't have as much fabric as she would've preferred.

"I bought this dress off the internet on a whim last year." Barbara explained. "I must've been seriously sleep deprived, because not only is it a totally wrong red for my hair, it's also too small. With a bit of fitting, it should look fantastic on you."

Morgan eyed the thing, wondering if this was one of those dresses that considered breathing unimportant. It looked.. pretty damn tight.

She must've looked almost scared, because Barbara rolled her eyes at her. "It's not going to bite you Morgan." she threw the dress at her, and Morgan slipped out of the towel she'd been in, thankful she was wearing underwear underneath. Barbara smirked as Morgan pulled on the dress. "Though, I can't guarantee that _Dick_ won't once he sees you."

Morgan blushed as bright red as the fabric she was currently slipping into. "Oh my god, Barbara," she protested as she attempted to zip up the dress.

M'gann helped her with the zipper and stepped back, the three girls studying her as she shuffled in the dress, trying to pull the hem lower over her thighs. When this only suceeded in shoving off more of her boobs, she stopped, crossing her arms over her chest instead.

"Artemis, work your magic." Barbara ordered and the blonde approached Morgan, smiling reassuringly.

"I'll do my best to not prick you with any needles."

Morgan nodded and hopped onto a stool upon the archer's request, spredding out her arms and moving as little as possible as Artemis tightened the dress with pins. Once it fit her perfectly, Artemis had her slip it off so she could sew in the adjustments.

Once the dress was off, Morgan was attacked by Barbara and M'gann who worked on her make up and hair respectively. For a moment, as she sat in a chair in front of the vanity, she felt like a movie star with a team of stylists preparing her for the red carpet. Allowing herself to lean back and enjoy the pampering, they finished faster than she would've liked.

In the end, with only ten minutes to spare, the three girls finished up, looking very satisfied with their work.

The dress was still a bit short, but now that it actually fit her, Morgan felt much better wearing it.

"Thanks, guys." She hugged them all, glad she had friends she could count on for anything, be it dressing up for a date or have her back as they fought crime.

"You're welcome." M'gann assured her.

"I daresay we've somehow managed to get even your cast to match the outfit." Barbara teased, making Morgan sigh in annoyance at the large, clumsy cast on her arm. "You look ravishing, Morgan. Just make sure he doesn't ravish you when you're still wearing the dress – it was expensive."

Morgan blushed crimson and swatted at Barbara's arm, her annoyance only fueled by the teasing laughter that felt her friend's lips.

"Dick'll be here in a moment, so I think, as the fairy godmothers of this story, we better bibbidi-bobbidi-boo outta here." Artemis decided, picking up the bag with her sewing kit.

M'gann readjusted a curl on Morgan's head, as the other two started stuffing all their things into the bags they'd arrived in.

"Tell us all about your date tomorrow!" She begged.

"Yeah," Babs smirked at her. "And don't stay out past twelve, Cinderella."

Morgan stuck her tongue out at the ginger. "This isn't a fairytale, guys." She grumbled as she held the door to her bedroom open, letting them leave in a singular line.

"You've known Dick for months." Barbara pointed out cheekily. "If this was a fairytale, you'd already be married."

Morgan felt her jaw slip open briefly before she schooled her features into a scowl, slamming the door. With a sigh, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes. Oddly, she felt nerves flutter in her stomach. It wasn't like the two of them hadn't gone on dates before – it just hadn't been the fancy-dress-and-dinner-reservation kinda date. It had been ice creams at the docks, hand-in-hand strolls in the city and lunch at a cozy street cafe.

Knowing Dick's position on the social ladder – basically, the very top, since he was the son of Bruce Wayne – Morgan knew the fancy restaurant would probably be _fancy_. And she knew there'd be more people from the wealthy elite there. She was afraid it would be the fundraiser all over again with her feeling grossly out of place, and that the people around her would know it too.

For the first time sicne they'd actually started dating, Morgan realized just what it meant. To her, it was simply a matter of boy meets girl – _okay,_ so there may have been some stuff with an alien invasion and him being her mentor and saving the world and superheroes, but still, it was just a guy that met a girl and they bonded.

But according to the Gotham elite, she was probably straying way out of her designated social layer. Maybe they'd think she was a gold digger or just plain, poor garbage. At the fundraiser, she had known some of them were thinking it. It was easily visible on their faces. Surely, tonight would be the same.

Clenching her jaw, Morgan pushed herself off of the door and paced her room in the black pumps she was re-using from the winter ball at Gotham University.

_So what if the elite thinks I'm beneath them, _she raged internally, _they have no say in whether I get to date Dick or not. Social status doesn't matter – shouldn't have to matter – so I won't let it matter. Besides, I didn't meet him as Dick Grayson, son of the billionaire Bruce Wayne, I met him as Nightwing-_

With a start, Morgan realized that, even as their superhero alteregoes, Dick was of a much higher ranking.

When he wasn't Dick Grayson, multimillionaire and heir to a huge-ass coorporation, he was Nightwing, one of the best heroes at his age – if not just one of the best of any age – and probably the youngest boy to ever earn the title of superhero. Arguably the smartest person on the Team and probably at least in top ten at the League. He was a legend already, and he wasn't even out of his teens.

She was.. not even a year into the business, and already the stress of the job was proving too much.

God, she felt like a loser.

Morgan sat on her bed and held her head in her hands, wondering where this was all coming from. Why was she suddenly feeling so insecure?

Dammit, she needed to pull herself together – Dick would probably have her head if he knew what she was thinking. It comforted her somewhat, knowing that he at least didn't agree with her horrible thoughts. He'd never doubted her or thought her unworthy.

She was startled out of her thoughts when there was a knock on her door. Sucking in a deep breath, she sat on the bed for a second longer, wrestling with the trainwreck of thoughts that had suddenly come over her.

"Just a second!" She called as she got up and located her purse, glad it had a strap so she had her one good hand free. Slinging it over her shoulder, she checked herself once in the mirror, as if to reassure herself that even though she was a poor, lowerclass woman with the alterego of a mediocre superhero – that admission hurt like a stake to the heart – she still looked pretty good for their date.

Pushing the thoughts from her mind and focusing instead on enjoying the night with her boyfriend – who had chosen her despite what the Gotham elite might think, thank you very much – Morgan turned the doorhandle and opened her door, smiling brightly at Dick.

He was dressed in a tux – like, of course, he lived to torture her – a crooked and excited smile on his stupid face.

"I'd whistle, but I don't actually know how to do that." He teased as he took her in, hands stuffed casually into his pockets.

Morgan wished she wasn't blushing crimson – partly with embarassment – and she aimed her eyes at the floor as she walked forward and grabbed onto his arm, pulling him further down the hall.

"I'd probably not appreciate it much anyway, so please don't." She joked, smiling at him and trying to seem as happy and carefree as she'd been earlier.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her close to his side, making Morgan lean her head against him and breathe in deeply, smiling softly to herself.

Awkwardly enough, just then Bruce Wayne stepped out of his office further down the hall, looking as tall and intimidating and terrifyingly kinda-father-in-law-ish as always with his crisp suit and angular face.

"Dick," Bruce called the second he spotted them. Morgan stood up straight instead of the leaning thing she'd had going before, trying to seem as polite and nice and likeable as possible.

Of all the members of the Gotham elite, Bruce Wayne was the one she wanted to impress the most.

It was strange how he seemed like an entirely different person at the Manor than any other place. She knew plenty about his reputation – playboy, irresponsible, party animal, and yet also a brilliant businessman, generous with charity and, if rumors were true, a very nice CEO. But at the Manor, he seemed a lot more serious. Stern and silent. He rarely came down for dinner, and when he did, he didn't say much.

She was having a hard time merging the famous Bruce Wayne with the private Bruce Wayne.

Maybe that was why she always felt way out of balance everytime they met, however briefly.

"What's up, Bruce?" Dick asked as they approached him. The two men were the same height, meaning Morgan felt absolutely _dwarfed_ – more than usual anyway – even in her highheels.

"Going out?" Bruce asked, his face emotionless.

Dick nodded. "Dinner at Flagrante."

Bruce stuck a hand into his pocket as the two men seemed to have a conversation purely with their eyes. A conversation Morgan knew she was intentionally being left out of.

"Well, take care." Bruce finally said, offering a small smile. "I hear Joker's been about recently. Don't stay out too late. Have a nice date."

He patted Dick on the shoulder once and walked by them.

.. Without acknowledging her presence even once.

Feeling pretty deflated, Morgan was totally unprepared for his next comment.

Just as he was about to turn the corner, he looked right at her and smiled nicely. "Nice dress, Miss Jørgensen."

Before she could respond, he'd disappeared, leaving Morgan to stare wide-eyed at the carpet and whisper "_Oh my god._" to herself. Still, the fact that he'd complimented her must've been a good sign. Either way, it made her more at ease.

Dick snorted out a small laugh and they proceeded their walk towards the garage.

Pulling out the carkeys, Dick unlocked the sleek, black sportscar Morgan remembered from the Winter ball, and opened the passenger door for her.

Slipping inside, she was already cooking up some way to convince him to let her drive it at some point, preferably tonight.

"So, Flagrante?" She asked as the engine turned over with a deep rumble and Dick drove them out of the garage. She dug through her memory in an attempt to figure out if she knew the place, but came up short. Then again, she didn't eat out in Gotham very often.

"It's this new place." He explained shortly.

There was a brief pause in which Morgan fiddled with the strap on her purse. Eventually, Dick spoke up again.

"Listen, Morgan.. The place might be a bit.. 'upper class'" Dick admitted, sounded a bit worried as if he knew how she felt about the Gotham elite. "Just so you know, you know? Sometimes, the rich crowd can be nasty, especially if you're an outsider."

Morgan looked at him, trying to seem confident. "don't worry 'bout it, rich boy. I've tried this once before, I'm sure it'll be fine."

He grinned and took his eyes off the road briefly to meet hers. "Good. I just wanted to make sure you knew what was coming."

"How romantic of you; taking me to a place where I might be met with hostility and assumed superiority." She teased, pressing her fist lightly against his arm in a mock punch to let him know she was only kidding.

"Yeah well, I knew your evening wouldn't be complete if you didn't have someone to glare at." He shot back.

Morgan let out a fake gasp, pressing a hand to her chest. "Excuse me!" She protested.

Dick smirked but didn't answer, and so they fell into a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive. She leaned back and watched the street lights go by. Eventually, Dick parked in front of a large building, the tall, elegant, white pillars and floor-to-roof windows letting her know that, yep, definitely a nice place.

By now, she'd learned she was supposed to wait for Dick to open her door for her, so she sat, pretending to fumble with her seatbelt as he exited the car and walked around it to reach her door.

She smiled at him and accepted his arm as she stepped out, leaning slightly agains him for support as she stumbled slightly in her high heels. She hadn't worn them for some time, so she found her balance somewhat stumped.

Dick tossed his car keys to the valet – a young guy with wild, caramel colored hair sticking out from under the hat that undoubtedly came with his uniform – who caught them and eagerly approached the awesome car.

"Don't park it too far from the front door, please." Dick requested, slipping him a bill for his tip.

"Yes, sir." The guy agreed as he slipping inside the car and drove off.

"Shall we?" Dick asked Morgan then, and she smiled and nodded as he led the way.

The place was nice inside, all soft lights and rich colors. Dick had gotten them a table at a window where they could look out over the city lights. As they sat, Morgan eyed the dark streetch of park visible from her side. It was like a black hole in the midst of the city lights, completely dark with an air of mystery.

A waiter approached them and handed them both menu cards, bowing as he backed away. Morgan raised an eyebrow in his direction, only now realizing how posh the place probably was.

"So, you're paying, right?" she grinned mockingly at him over her menu, blinking alluringly with her eyes.

Dick offered her a _look_ before responding. "Uh, _duh."_ was his articulate reply. "Like your broke ass could even afford _one_ of the things on this menu."

"Rude." she responded before turning her eyes onto the menu, trying to find the most expensive thing so she could order that just to be annoying. Figuring she should order drinks first, she found the list of beverages and frowned. "All they have is alcohol or water." She sighed.

Dick nodded. "If you want a soft drink, you'll have to ask for it."

"_Or_, I could just totally break the law – and your wallet – and order this fancy-ass wine right here." Morgan pointed at the thing and tilted her menu card so he could see. "Dana Estates Lotus Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon." she recited, wondering how many of those words she'd mispronounced. "Huh, says here it's the _fourth_ most expensive wine in America."

"Sure, order that." Dick responded casually, not looking up from his own menu card.

Morgan blinked. "Really?"

Dick shrugged. "Sure. At a place like this, they aren't going to ask for I.D. And I can afford it. If you want the wine, go for it."

Morgan narrowed her eyes at him. "This is some reverse psychology, isn't it?"

Dick looked blankly at her. "Nope. If you want the Dana Est- whatever, you can have it."

"Well – Well now I _don't!"_ she complained. "It's not fun when I have your _permission." _

Dick laughed and Morgan knew he'd done that on purpose. It _was_ a reverse psychology thing.

"Fine, then _I'll _order it." he said next, waving the waiter over. The man approached them and Morgan trained horrified eyes at Dick.

"Don't you dare," she hissed, feeling her cheeks color with mortification – she could deal with Dick taking her out to dinner. But him ordering such a ridiculously expensive wine for her was way out of her comfort zone. She didn't like when people spent a lot of money on her, and her only comfort was that she knew he was rich.

"A bottle of 'Dana Estates Lotus Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon', please." he told the waiter, meeting Morgan's eyes with a smirk.

"Right away, sir."

Morgan glared at him as the waiter walked away, slumping slightly in her seat. "I was _joking._" She stressed.

Dick shrugged. "Eh, dont' worry about it. I can afford it."

"Still!" she felt unexpectedly stressed over that stupid wine. She was embarassed by the amoun of money he was using. "I don't want you to waste your money just-"

"Morgs, _don't_ _worry," _Dick implored, looking at her with soft eyes. He reached across the table and grasped onto her fingers as they stuck out of her cast. He played with the digits lightly, before intertwining them with his. Then he looked up from their hands and directly into her eyes. "Tonight is about you, okay? I want to spoil you a little, just because I can."

Morgan looked at him for a long moment before giving in, smiling almost shyly. "Alright, _fine._" she relented even though she wasn't sure she felt like she deserved to be spoiled.

The waiter returned with the stupid wine and a pitcher of water. He placed four glasses on the table as well, one for wine and one for water for each of them.

Morgan watched as he left again, her eyes absentmindedly trained on his balding scalp.

Turning her eyes away from the waiter and to the restaurant, she scanned the place – more specifically, the people. A few tables over, a small boy in an adorably tiny version of a standard tux sat, eyeing the cast on her arm.

She stuck her tongue out at him, making the boy widen his eyes before looking away hurriedly.

Infront of her, Dick chuckled. Morgan turned innocently to him. "What?"

"Bullying kids now?" He responded, leaning back in his chair and studying her with a strangely intense look.

Morgan smirked with one corner of her mouth, shrugging. "He was staring at my cast." She defended herself.

"Mhmm.." Dick hummed doubtfully, raising an eyebrow at her.

Morgan stuck her tongue out at him as well and aimed a quick but precise kick at his shin. Upon hitting him, Dick's leg shot up instinctively, banging harshly into the table from underneath. The glasses, bottles and candlesticks rattled loudly as the table pitched sloshed, some water spilling onto the table. One glass fell over with a _clank._

It was empty, thankfully, but Dick quickly righted it. The racket he'd made and the sheepish look on his face made Morgan splutter out laughter, which he quickly joined in on.

A few seconds later, their laughter died down, and Morgan turned to study the room again, cheeks flushing slightly when people cast them disapproving glares.

"Thanks, now people are seriously staring." She dryly said.

Dick offered her an incredulous look. "Hey – _you _kicked _me." _He reminded her.

They settled down after that, looking through the menu instead.

"I'm sure I even know what any of this is." Morgan admitted. "Why don't you order? I'm pretty sure you knew more about this stuff than I do."

Dick shrugged. "Sure."

He called the waiter over for a second time and ordered something that sounded very fancy and french.

As the waiter left again, both Dick and Morgan eyed the wine for a moment.

"We're not even old enough to drink." She pointed out.

Dick shrugged. "Just half a glass, then? I'm not saying we should get totally pissed."

"Okay, why not." Morgan gave up, offering him a small conspicuratory smile. "We're bad superheroes." She added in a whisper, leaning closer so he could hear.

"Superheroes _on a break." _He reminded her slyly, reaching for the wine. He got the bottle open and poured them both the agreed upon amount.

Morgan grimaced slightly. "It looks like blood."

"As long as it doesn't _taste_ like blood."

Each reaching for their own, their eyes met over the rim of the glasses, sharing a small smile.

"Ready?" Dick asked.

Morgan nodded. "Considering the price, this had better taste like the nectar of God."

They sat for a second and then, simultaneously, took a large sip from their drinks.

Morgan instantly choked on the bitter liquid, grimacing and shuddering as she forced it down. Dick fared much better, but she suspected he got to drink this stuff at the all parties he had to go to as the son of a billionaire.

"That's _vile!" _She exclaimed. "It tastes like crap!"

"But _quality _crap." Dick pointed out with a small grin.

"You just wasted hundreds of dollars, sweetheart." She pushed the glass away from her, glaring suspiciously at the liquid. "I'm not drinking anymore of that."

Dick let out a single laugh. "I think the look on your face was worth the money."

Morgan mock glared at him but lost the fight to the small smile appearing on her lips.

Soon enough, their food arrived. Morgan was having a hard time figuring out what it actually was, so she cast Dick a suspicious look. "It's not bird, is it?"

He shook his head. Satisfied, Morgan slowly poked at the food before taking a hesitant bite. It tasted good, so she ate the rest without complaint. She thought it was some sort of pork, maybe with some sort of potato at the side.

The two of them carried a hushed conversation as they ate. During the breaks in their conversation, Morgan noticed the rest of the restaurant was completely silent, except for the live band playing a graceful tune. Nobody was saying anything. No _wonder _people had been looking at her weird since they'd sat down. Dick and her were being far to cheery to match the dignified and sober atmosphere of the place.

She looked around at the faces of the other people, noticing their carefully blank faces.

The general atmosphere made her a bit uncomfortable, and Dick undoubtedly sensed this because he made sure to redirect her attention to him every time her eyes started wandering. They stayed there for a little over two hours before leaving, to her relief.

"That was nice." she said as they walked slowly down the street. Her arm was wrapped in his and they were walking so close she could feel his side press against hers..

Dick snorted slightly, smiling wryly. "You hated it."

Morgan grimaced. "I didn't _hate _it." She protested. "I just.. well – why did they all seem so miserable?"

Dick looked ahead with his lips pressed firmly together, shrugging slightly. "I wouldn't call it miserable, exactly." He said slowly. "I think.. Well, when you're part of the Gotham elite, you gotta be a pretty good actor. Everybody in your social circle is constantly judging you, pinpointing weaknesses or way they can get something from you. That restaurant was supposedly a very dignified place, so seeming rowdy would be bad – they'd rather just stay silent than accidentally attract negative attention. Stay anonymous so people won't start to analyze you."

"Thats.. sad." Morgan eventually responded. "Makes me glad I'm just a mere commoner."

He chuckled lightly and placed a kiss on top of her hair.

They walked for a good while, looking at the city lights, the cars passing by, random pedestrians.. it was peaceful and exactly what Morgan needed. For once, the Gotham skyline was clear, not a cloud in sight. She was sure hundreds of stars would've been visible if they'd been in a less polluted and lit-up place.

The heavenly smell of greasy, unhealthy hotdogs filled her nose, and Morgan look up as they neared a small stand. A mother and her two children stood patiently in front of it as the chubby man prepared their hotdogs. She smiled beautifully and handed the food to her squealing children that proceeded to her hug her around her legs and thank her for the treat.

"I don't know 'bout you." Dick spoke up. "But I think the servings at that restaurant were pretty small. I'm still hungry."

She was pretty sure he'd noticed that she'd been eyeing the hotdog stand, which was probably why he had said that. Still, she smiled and shrugged. "Quality over quantity and all that. Truth be told, I could use some quantity right about now too." She admitted, hoping she wasn't coming across as ungrateful for his efforts with the restaurant.

They stopped by the hotdog stand. Morgan smiled hugely at the owner, who looked very confused. She wondered if this was the first time he served people that looked dressed for a galla. She supposed they looked very obviously uppity.

Dick paid for two and as they ate, they walked back the way they'd come, realizing he'd forgotten his car there.

"How do you forget a car?" Morgan teased between bites, taking great care to not spill any ketchup on her dress. In a way, she felt slightly embarrassed. He'd taken them to a really nice restaurant and ordered a really expensive wine, and she'd been all but ungrateful for the attention. And now, here they were, walking down a dirty street and eating cheap, greasy hotdogs. And she felt much more at home here than she'd done at the restaurant, which only proved further how different their backgrounds and social statuses were. It made her feel slightly wretched. Mostly because this sort of doubt wasn't common for her. But Dick was important to her, and she hated that she felt inadequate. She hated that she almost felt like he deserved better.

"I'm sorry for seeming so ungrateful.." She eventually forced out once that miserable feeling in her stomach became too much to bear. "I really did appreciate you taking me to that restaurant – I suppose I just don't.. fit in with that crowd."

"Morgan, I was born in a circus." He said sort of randomly. "I lived my first nine years amongst clowns and elephants, traveling all over the country. I was a grieving orphan that got lucky enough to be adopted by a billionaire – I don't exactly fit in that crowd either."

She felt like facepalming herself as he spoke. Of course he didn' really fit in either. She wasn't sure how she'd somehow managed to forget about his days at the circus. And even if he'd been born into a rich family, it shouldn't have mattered as much as she let it. He certainly didn't care. He probably prefered the hotdogstand and the casual stroll as well.

Sighing in relief, Morgan briefly leaned her head against his arm. "I guess we were both fish out of water in there, then."

He shrugged and slung an arm around her shoulder. "Well, I've had years to adjust, so I'm used to it by now. But trust me, in the beginning, I was terribly awkward."

They finally reached the restaurant again and after Dick had gotten his keys back, Morgan found that she truthfully didn't want the night to end yet, and she got the feeling he didn't either. Her eyes swept across the street towards the clutter of trees across from the place.

"Oh, look!" She pointed. "The park!"

She dragged him along behind her as she headed for the dark stretch of trees, a small gravel path cutting neatly through the black mass. They followed the path, Morgan walking in the soft grass as she'd taken her heels off right before entering. Dick's shoes crunched against the gravel, but other than that, the park was silent and empty. The sound of the city behind them seems far away, the wood a peaceful little oasis.

They happened upon a small pond in the heart of the park and sat down by the water's edge. After talking for over an hour, they simply lay on their backs and watched the sky, pointing at the few stars they could spot underneath the pollution of the city.

At some point, Dick sat up and looked at his watch.

"It's past twelve." He said, smiling softly at her. "Happy birthday."

Morgan sat up as well and reached for his watch, confirming that, indeed, it was fifteen minutes past midnight already.

"Oh." She said, momentarily lost. Truthfully, she had almost forgotten about her birthday, so wrapped up had she been in their date. She looked at him with a smile and pulled a curl behind her ear. "Thanks."

"I got you something," He admitted, holding out a small, colorfully wrapped package. It smelled far away of jewelry.

And in her blissful state, the voices of Barbara, M'gann and Artemis calling her date a fairytale and that the two of them would've been married already then, all Morgan could think to think was; _if he's proposing right now, I'm going to kill him._

"_Oooh_, gimme, gimme, gimme," She said once she'd pushed the unwelcome thought far away, making joking grabby hands at the small present. He laughed and kissed her forehead, shuffling closer as he handed the gift to her. His leg was bent and Morgan could feel it press between her shoulderblades, his other stretched in front of her. He was leaning on his right arm, the other wrapped around her shoulders. She felt safe and warm in her little Dick Grayson cocoon and sighed contently as she undid the bow on the gift.

It was indeed jewelry. Inside the small box was a necklace. The chain was a shiny silver, thin yet strong. A teardrop shaped blue stone, a blue that matched his eyes perfectly, hung from the chain. The necklace was elegant and beautiful and she hugged him tightly.

"It's beautiful." She whispered in his ear. "Thanks."

"It's better than you think." He said, sounding excitied. "It's charmed to hide your wings too. And not just hide – they disappear entirely so you don't have to worry about them bumping into anyone."

Morgan gaped slightly at him. "Really?"

He nodded. "Try it for yourself," He offered, motioning for the orange pendant she was currently wearing.

She hesitated only for a moment before reaching for the old necklace, pulling it off. Her wings hummed briefly as they were revealed to the world. Then she slipped the new, much more beautiful pendant around her neck. The humming was there briefly and then an entirely new sensation swept over her. The weight of her wings, which she'd gotten so used to, disappeared entirely. She felt lighter immediately and she looked behind her to find her feathered limbs completely gone. She reached a hand out, but could not feel them.

Morgan got up and walked in a small circle, testing this new sensation.

"That feels _so weird!"_ She said, not unhappily. She swore her steps felt bouncier, more unhindered. "Where did they go?"

She took the necklace off briefly as if to reassure herself that they weren't _actually _gone, merely hidden. The wings reappeared immediately, to her relief.

Dick got up as well, approaching her as she kept walking around in her small circle. "I don't know actually. I think Zatanna said something about a pocket in reality."

He reached her and placed his hands on her shoulders, looked behind her with a thoughtful face. "You look strange without them."

"As I said to Impulse when he said the same thing; you're calling my body weird."

He smirked cheekily. Then he fixed her with a serious look. "Do you like it?"

"Are you kidding?" She responded, "I love it! It'll take some time to get used to, but this makes everything much easier."

"Good." He said simply.

They stared at each other for a moment, drinking in the other's features in the moonlight.

It was a mutual thing, but eventually, Dick ducked down so she could reach, and their lips meet slowly. It was a sweet thing, almost innocent in nature. Dick wrapped an arm around her lower back, pulling her very close, as the kiss shifted into something far more passionate and needy.

Morgan pulled away and stood on her toes to reach his ear. "I promised Barbara I wouldn't let you ravish me as long as I'm wearing her dress, so we'd better stop." She smirked.

Dick let out a small groan and muttered something about cockblocking, but he stepped back nevertheless, grasping her hand instead.

"We should head home." He said as he reached down to place a kiss on her bare shoulder. The gesture sent shivers up and down her spine.

The park was quite once they'd left, the small pond shining brightly in the moonlight, as if delighted by the scene it had just borne witness to.

* * *

So I hope a long chapter makes up for its slight lateness and also that last week's chapter was kinda short. I never intended for this flashback scene to become so long, and it'll probably be the longest flashback in the story. In the end, they don't change much, they just sort of draw parallels and show what happened right before she let and why her absence then hurt all the more. So I promise this will be the only time I make such a long flashback and let it fill an entire chapter.

A bunch of people have been asking about how mention of Morgan's wings have been a bit lacking in this story, and now you know why - the necklace he gave her right before she left make them disappear entirely.

I watched Jurassic World in the cinema yesterday and OH MY GOD WHAT AN AWESOME MOVIE! LOOOVE!

Ok, two things: If anyone want to read the prologue of my Assassins Creed story, plz let me know so I can send it to you on PM.

And second thing: I'm getting SO MANY Dick/Morgan feels from Aaron Tveit's version of Run Away With Me. God, what a beautiful song!

Fun fact: I got quite a lot writing done this week, so I'm pretty proud.


	15. Birthday

**Chapter Fifteen: Birthday**

* * *

July 13th

The sunlight in her eyes alerted Morgan to the fact that it was much later than when she usually awake, she sat up abruptly, throwing her covers off and standing in such a hurry that it left her momentarily dizzy.

Why hadn't anybody woken her? Better question; why hadn't her _alarm clock_ woken her? Glancing at the useless thing, she was surprised to see that it already past eight. She was supposed to wake up to help Alfred with breakfast by six thirty!

Morgan threw on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top before running out of her room, wild bed head bouncing around her face as she sped down the halls.

She stormed into the kitchen, already in the middle of her apology, but stopped as she noticed the people in the room.

"Happy birthday!" cheered Karen, M'gann and Barbara.

Morgan paused for a moment. Truth be told, she had actually forgotten about her own birthday for a second. In her panic, she hadn't really stopped to check the date or anything.

"Hey, guys," she relaxed and smiled as she accepted their hugs. "I can't believe you remembered!"

"Of course we remembered." Barbara scoffed.

Alfred materialized quite suddenly, and Morgan instantly launched into her apology again. Birthday or not, she was still late.

"Miss, we intentionally let you sleep in." He responded calmly. "Consider it a birthday present."

Secretly, she wasn't sure that waking up at eight could be considered sleeping in, but she thanked him either way.

A few minutes later, the four girls were stuffing their faces with pancakes and a birthday cake Alfred had apparently made the night before. Morgan felt unexpectedly touched. Officialy, she was only the 'maid', but the butler clearly cared enough for her to bother baking in between all his other duties and it meant a lot to her.

"I hope you didn't have any plans for today, cuz you'll have to cancel them." Karen told her slyly.

"Oh? Really?" Morgan didn't hide her excited grin. "Why?"

"We're taken you out. Girls' day out." M'gann beamed. "You could use some time away from all these men."

Morgan agreed wholeheartedly. A day with just girls for company sounded like heaven right now.

She smirked at Barbara as she bit into the brownie and moaned loudly.

"Alfred, this cake is borderline criminal." Barbara praised.

As she took a bite herself, Morgan couldn't agree more. She didn't get to eat much however, as the girls seemed in a bit of a hurry.

M'gann gulped down a glass of milk before jumping off her chair. "Alright, let's go." she ordered.

"Where are we going?" Morgan questioned as the three girls pushed her out of her chair and ushered her down the hall. "Guys, I'm still in my P-J's!"

The three girls paused.

"Lead the way to your room then." Karen demanded.

Morgan rolled her eyes playfully, but led them through the house anyway. She really was grateful they'd decided to do something for her on her birthday.

The girls let her slip into a sky-blue summer dress – they insisted she wear something pretty and practically forced the dress over her head – and a pair of strappy sandals. M'gann plaited her hair and twisted the braid into a bun at the nape of her neck. Suddenly, not ten minutes after the three girls had invaded her room and raided her closet, she stood in front of her full length mirror and marveled at their efficiency. She looked pretty and feminine in the way that would give you the urge to sway your hips as you walked and wink at random strangers. Her good mood was improved even more, unable to deny that she did enjoy a bit of pampering now and again.

"Gorgeous!" Karen cheered. "Now let's go."

The three girls pushed her out of her room with such vigor, Morgan actually stumbled over the threshold. And, just her luck, Dick passed by her room right then to witness her embarrassment.

As she regained her footing, he paused for a short moment, sending her a blank 'how are you this ungraceful' kind of look. Morgan stood up properly and met his look head on, raising a small eyebrow in challenge.

He took in her attire, eyes sweeping up and down her body, making Morgan's cheeks color slightly as she remembered their little sex-escapade from last week. Then, he did the barest eye roll and headed off the way he'd been walking before, disappearing into his room.

"I swear, one day I'm gonna.." Morgan heard Barbara mumble behind her. During the five seconds Morgan and Dick had commenced in their staring match, the other girls had been standing silently behind Morgan, as if waiting for some sort of situation to break out.

"Don't." Morgan interrupted, still looking at the door he'd disappeared behind. She felt weird. After he'd driven her home two days ago, she had seen neither hide nor hair of Dick. She wasn't sure if he was avoiding her on purpose, as it certainly wouldn't be the first time she wouldn't see him for several days. She'd been telling herself to not think too much on it. "Forget about him. Let's go have fun."

Still, he'd told her he would let her help. Morgan was tempted to seek him out and ask when she'd be helping, but she got the feeling that would be the wrong thing to do. In the game they were currently playing, he had the ball, and Morgan could only wait for him to make a move. So she waited.

The four of them left the manor, cramming into Karen's _tiny, _piece-of-junk car.

"I'm a student, okay?" she complained. "Added with superhero business, I can barely _afford_ a car, and not at all an expensive one!"

The weather was beautiful, so the size of the car didn't matter. They ditched it as soon as possible, choosing to roam around Gotham on foot instead. For a city that was usually dark and grey all the time, the summer had been great so far. She supposed not even a place as miserable as Gotham could block out the light completely.

"So, what's the plan?" Morgan asked after ten minutes of seemingly aimless wandering.

"_The plan_ was to get you out of that male-infested, dusty mansion." Karen said.

"We didn't exactly get any further in planning." M'gann admitted before pausing at a window to check out a pair of cute sandals. When Morgan look at M'gann again, she saw the other girl was wearing copies of the sandals, and she instantly felt jealous of the martian's organic clothes.

"Do you have something you want to do?" asked Barbara. "It's your birthday after all."

Morgan thought about it for a moment. Then a slow smile grew on her face. "I think I know."

She led them enthusiastically through the streets, heading for one of the only parks Gotham had left. It was a simple place. A small hill was at the beginning of a fairly big stretch of nice, green grass, which ended abruptly with the appearance of a dense oak tree wood. The wood wasn't particularly big, but it was nice and private, and Morgan knew there was a beautiful pond right in the heart of it. The way to the pond carved through the wood by way of a small gravel track that bent naturally around the foliage.

As soon as they reached the pond, Morgan sighed with a new sense of calm. She practically skipped towards the small body of water, taking off her shoes as she went. Slipping her feet into the cool, caressing water, Morgan let out a content sigh and leaned back on her hands, closing her eyes and letting the sun bathe her face in light.

M'gann, Karen and Barbara seemed to hover uncertainly by the small road for a moment.

"Uh, Morgan?" M'gann asked as she eventually approached the relaxed girl. "Why this place? I mean, what's so special about it?"

Morgan shrugged. "Nothing special. It just relaxes me."

She was lying. But the others didn't need to know that.

Barbara offered Karan and M'gann a one-shouldered shrug before taking off her own shoes and rolling up her pants legs, dipping her feet into the water as well.

"That _is_ nice." She mumbled, lying back in the soft grass.

For half an hour, the four of them sat by the water, talking little, and when they did, it was about nothing in particular.

Eventually, Morgan slipped her feet out of the cool water and let them dry in the grass, wiggling her toes absentmindedly.

"This is nice." She voiced her gratitude, offering the others a small smile. "Seriously, thank you. I didn't think anyone would remember."

"You're welcome, Morgan." M'gann said in that soft voice of hers. "We figured, with your mom in the hospital, you probably wouldn't get much of a celebration. I don't think anyone at the mansion would've remembered. And Dick certainly wouldn't have acknowledged it."

Why was she bringing him up _right now_ ? Morgan inwardly complained at the subject. It wasn't like _this_ _place_ didn't remind her enough of him already. As soothing as the small pond was, it also brought forth a small ache of remembrance.

And of course her thoughts strayed to _that night_. She seriously had to stop thinking about sex.

"Probably not." She answered; hoping with flushing cheeks that someone else would speak up and distract her from her dirty thoughts. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, plucking up grass with her bare toes.

Barbara looked at her, squinting her eyes. "What's that face?" She asked.

Morgan blinked innocently at her. "What face?"

"_That face. _You made a face just then." The red head accused.

Morgan shook her head. "I did no such thing."

"I saw it too. There was definitely a face." Karen joined in.

Morgan sighed harshly, not getting why they wouldn't just let it go. "There _wasn't_ a face." she snapped moodily. "Seriously you guys, just leave it."

She came off sounding more hostile than she had intended, the glare on her face piercing the pool as she stared into it. There was a pregnant pause around them, her harsh words having punctured the small bubble of peace they'd been in for the past thirty minutes.

Ten seconds went by and then Morgan deflated, sighing loudly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just.. Well, a lot of stuff is going on."

"It's okay, girl." Karen assured her, rolling over so she was supporting her lying body on her elbows, looking up at the blonde. "We understand."

"No, you really don't." Morgan knew they couldn't possibly understand her situation. She'd slept with Dick – her ex-boyfriend – and now he was finally letting her help him. Only, she couldn't figure out if he was only letting her help _because_ of that sex, or because he actually thought she was capable of helping him.

"I..uh," Morgan bit into her bottom lip as she gathered the courage to get the words out. Grimacing, she ran a hand over her hair, playing with a curl. "I slept with him. With Dick. Last week."

"_What?"_ Three voice demanded as one.

Morgan cringed, instantly feeling the need to defend herself. "It wasn't something I _planned!_ It just kinda happened! It was late at night and we both happened tobe in the kitchen and we were a little drunk and – well, sex happened."

She gathered the courage to face the others, not surprised to find them sort of gaping at her.

"Oh, come _on._" She groaned at their shocked faces. "Don't look so surprised. It's not like it hasn't happened before."

Their eyes only grew bigger, which made Morgan realize she probably wasn't helping her cause.

"'Not like it hasn't happened before'?" Barbara repeated. "Just how much sex have the two of you been having?"

Morgan spluttered and turned even redder. One honestly wouldn't have thought she was twenty one, given how immature she felt her reaction was. Why was she blushing so hard?

"Not much!" She immediately clarified. "I just meant we did it before I left for Denmark. So, you know, last week wasn't our first time."

"Do you like him?" M'gann asked, not a hint of judgment in her voice. She said it in such a simple, deadpan way that Morgan found it impossible to lie.

"I don't know!" She sounded distraught, more than she'd planned to. "I think he's hot, okay? But do I have actual feelings for him, or am I just remembering how good it felt to be with him back then? Am I digging up old emotions because it's easier than accepting that we've both moved on? Am I kidding myself by thinking I have a shot at helping him? Am I making all of this way more complicated than it has to be? Should I just accept that my feelings are genuine and stop trying to excuse them away? _I don't know!"_

Feeling her frustration mount, Morgan let out a loud, hissing sigh of frustration and hid her face behind her arms, leaning against her knees. There was a long pause after her word vomit, but Morgan didn't look up.

Eventually, M'gann spoke up again. "I can't answer your questions for you." She began slowly. Morgan look up at her, watching as the Martian seemed to weigh each word carefully. "But I know a bit about being in denial. After Connor and I broke up.. I tried to project my feelings onto La'gaan. I tried to pretend I didn't like Connor at all, which ended up hurting me a lot more than if I'd just been honest with myself."

Morgan understood where she was going.

"I think.." M'gann paused. "I think it would be best if you stopped thinking so much about it. Let things run as they should. Let them progress by themselves. You can't control everything, so maybe it's time you stopped trying. Let your feelings _be_ what they are, and then, one day, when you're ready, you'll _know_ what they are."

Morgan nodded, pressing her lips together. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"_And_, until you know what they are, I'd probably advice you to _not_ have any more sex with Dick." Barbara teased.

Just hearing someone else say that made Morgan flush all over again. "Shut up." She swatted at the red head who dodged easily.

"So," Kare smirked at her. "Was it good?"

Morgan swatted at her also, but she appreciated Karen lightening the situation.

"I'm not even going to answer that, Karen."

"Aw, come on." Karen prodded. "I didn't mind when you guys grilled me about my first time with Mal – you have to give me something!"

Morgan was still beet red and she flopped down, letting out a long-suffering sigh. "I – uh." she tried to think of some way to give Karen an answer without the need to burry herself afterwards from pure mortification. "I mean, my legs were shaky more than thirteen hours later, so.."

"I knew it!" Karen cackled. Morgan turned over to burry her face in the grass, but she realized she felt much better already. Somehow, Karen had ddefused the tension and made Morgan feel better about the whole thing.

"Let's never have this conversation again." Barbara decided after a moment.

They fell into a comfortable silence again. Morgan rolled over to let the sun's rays soak her other side. She felt significantly better now that she'd discussed her situation with the others. M'gann was right. The best thing she could do was to just let her feelings be. At some point, their true nature would become clear, but until then, she'd stop worrying about them. She'd try, at least. But she had never been very good at letting things be, had she?

"You know, now that we know what happened between the two of you, the look he gave you this morning makes much more sense." Karen mused eventually.

"Yeah," Barbara seemed to realize. "He wasn't _judging _you as much as he was.. _checking you out!_ Oh my god, why are the two of you so complicated!"

Morgan blinked at her. "How is this about us being complicated."

"If you can't see that, then I won't bother explaining." the ginger sighed.

Morgan grunted and lay her head back into the grass. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Her stomach started growling annoyingly.

"Well," She stood up. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

"Seriously? We ate breakfast like an hour ago." Karen let out a small laugh.

"So what? I didn't get to finish because _someone_, " she glared accusingly at the three of them, "was in such a hurry to get going."

They hung out for the rest of the morning and some of the noon. Eventually, Barbara had to go to work and Karen had a lecture to get to. M'gann and Morgan stayed together for a little while more, drinking coffee at a small café, but then M'gann had to leave as well. She was called from the Watchtwer about some business – some alien that didn't speak english, and the Martian Manhunter was on Mars right now, so he couldn't translate.

Morgan walked around the city, enjoying the time to herself. Eventually, she came upon a bus stop and waited there. She knew one of the busses that stopped here was headed for the hospital, and since she intended to visit her mom, she decided to wait for that specific bus.

It came only five minutes later, and so, twenty minutes after she'd approached the bus stop, Morgan stood in front of the hospital her mom was in.

Taking a deep breath, she walked inside. She walked by the receptionist, hardly needing directions anymore. She'd visit her mom most days since the accident, so she knew the way pretty well by now.

Walking silently down the clean, white halls of the hospital, Morgan fought to keep her melancholic thoughts at bay. Her mom hadn't deserved her situation, but it was what it was. She couldn't change any of it now. All she could do was try to remain positive for her mom. She'd have to help in any way she could. Right now, there wasn't much she could do, but her mom would get better and be discharged at some point, and then she'd need Morgan more than ever.

As Morgan entered her mom's room, she found it hard to stay positive, though. The way the older woman was drowning in tubes or all sorts, her face still covered in bruises and slowly healing scratches, made a hard lump of ice settle in Morgan's stomach. She'd seen her mom like this every day for the past week, but the sight never got any easier. Her mom had always been a caretaker. A giver. Now, finding herself so limited was bound to frustrate and hurt Abigail more than Morgan could imagine.

Abigail turned her head as much as the machinery and tubes around her allowed, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw Morgan.

"Hey, Mom." Morgan mustered up a small smile.

"Hey, sweetie." her mom croaked, trying to hide the grimace even _talking_ seemed to bring forth. "Happy birthday!"

Morgan slipped into the chair next to her bed, keeping the small smile on her face. "Thanks. How are you?"

"Fine, just fine. Well, as fine as I can be, currently."

"Good." Morgan hesitated for a moment before placing her hand in her mom's, taking comfort in the slight squeeze her mom gave it. "I promise I'll bring a book over next time I'm here so I can read for you."

Her mom smiled again. "Thank you, sweetie." She studied her daughter with hazel eyes for a moment before frowning slightly. "You seem troubled. What's on your mind?"

Morgan shook her head slowly, smiling softly. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. You just.. You just focus on getting better, okay? Don't worry about me."

"Morgan, when will you ever learn?" Abigail sighed. "I might be lying in a hospital bed with a broken spine, and you might be a twenty one year old adult, but I will _never _stop worrying about even the smallest of your problems. I'm your mom, it's part of the job."

A small smirk grew on her face. "It's a good thing I lead such a careful, risk free life, then."

Abigail huffed out an amused breath and turning her head towards the ceiling. "Yeah. Tell me about your day! How has it been so far?"

"It was nice. Three of my friends took me to the city and we hung out for some time. They've all headed off now, though, so I figured I'd pay you a visit before heading back to the Manor."

Abigail let a small smile tug at her lips, giving Morgan's hand another squeeze. "You're a good daughter." she sighed, soundig tired. "I'm glad you have friends to take care of you. How is your work?"

Morgan's smile turned a tiny bit stiff, which she hoped her mom wouldn't notice. "It's good. Lots of work, though. Taking care of such an old building and cooking for the people that live there _is_ a task. But Alfred is really good at this whole housekeeper thing. He organizes everything."

Abigail nodded again. "Good." She was facing the ceiling, her eyes closing slowly.

Morgan studied her face for a moment. "You're tired." She eventually decided. "I'll let you sleep. I promise I'll be back soon, okay? Tomorrow."

Abigail nodded, still with closed eyes. "I'll see you soon. I love you."

Morgan kissed her mom's hand. "Love you too, mom."

Leaving the hospital, Morgan hugged herself around her middle, feeling cold despite the warm weather. She'd been in a good mood as long as her friends had been there to distract her, but they weren't anymore. The image of her mom as she'd seen her immediately after the accident – bruised and frail, was etched into her memory and it made her shudder whenever she thought of it.

She just had to be patient, once her mom got to leave the hospital, thing would get better. She'd help her.

They'd get through this together.

With a sigh, Morgan realized she now had two people she needed to care for.

Blinking down at her own feet, she wondered if the correct number wasn't _three _people.

Because if she was so busy looking after others – who was looking out for her?

* * *

I'm sorry this chapter was so short and lacked any action, but I didn't want to split up the scene that came after this one. I promise the next chapter is really action-packed with lots of Dick Grayson!

We get some stuff from his POV, for once, so stay tuned!

Fun fact: Morgan's birthday falls on the 13th of july bc it's my cousin's birthday (she used to be my best friend so the date just sorta popped up) but then this month I realized her birthday is in JUNE and not JULY and I suck.


	16. Library

**Chapter Sixteen: Library**

* * *

July 19th

Dick wasn't sure if he should be annoyed with how relaxed Morgan seemed in the Batcave, or perhaps relieved that she wasn't feeling awkward by working with him.

She sat reclined in the chair by the computers, legs slung over one armrest and leaning against the other. She was slurping down the noodles from her take-away box at an impressive pace, only coming up for air between every other bite.

They were officially going to start their team up. Dick had told her eight days ago that he'd let her help him, but he hadn't actually decided to let her until just half an hour ago. Maybe it was because he was tired of her looking at him with this expectant look on her face. She looked like she could barely stop herself from asking when she'd be allowed in on his work. Or maybe it was because tonight had presented him a good opportu nity to track down the Riddler, and he'd realized he might as well bring her along.

Either way, she was here, eating noodles, and looking too damn comfortable for her own good. It was typical Morgan, and he wasn't sure if it annoyed or amused him.

At least she didn't seem like the fact they'd had slightly drunken sex a little over two weeks ago bothered her too much.

"So," she began, speaking behind a mouthful of noodles. "Tell me what you got so far."

Dick blinked awake from his musings and focused on her. He let himself slip into Batman mode as he quickly relayed everything.

"The day Batman died," – he hated how he still seemed to get a lump in his throat at those words – "there were five people there. I was only able to identify one of them – the Joker. I tracked him down recently, but he got away." as he spoke, he walked up to the computer and pulled up the files he had on the Joker and the Riddler, respectively. "Before he disappeared, however, he gave me clues. He and four other villains have formed an alliance. Apparently, they _want_ me to track them down. Probably to kill me. It's a game to them."

Morgan nodded, her noodles momentarily forgotten. "You got a name? Any idea about who the others might be?" she looked up at the stuff he'd pulled up on the screens. "I can see you've got an eye on the Riddler too. Is he involved?"

He nodded. "The group named themselves 'The Darkness'."

Morgan snorted, interrupting whatever he'd been about to say. "Sounds like a 'The Light' knock-off."

That had been Dick's thoughts exactly, but he didn't say this. Instead, he kept his head focused on the mission. They weren't here to chat or to catch up. They were working together, and that was it.

She crossed her arms over her chest, and Dick found his eyes traveling south on their own accord. Her new suit was much more low-cut than the other had been, showing off enough cleavage to grab his attention, and, he suspected, that of any criminal she was fighting. Which was probably her reason for the zipper traveling lower than it needed to. Either way, it sent his mind a few weeks back.

He blinked and looked away from her and to the computer instead, speaking up again.

"The Riddler is involved somehow. Before Joker ran off, he told me to seek him out. Said he liked riddles, and that he might be able to help me."

"So they're actually giving you clues to finding them? Do they consider this a treasure hunt or something?"

"Something like that. But it's all I have to go on for now."

"Okay. It's better than nothing, right?" she shrugged, scooping up another mouthful of noodles. "So what's the plan for tonight?"

"Tracking Riddler down. Rumors say he'll be to find in Gotham east."

"That's a pretty large area to cover, though." Morgan reminded him.

"And that's why it's a good thing there's two of us." He replied in a deadpan.

They divided the streets in eastern Gotham between them. Then, Dick pulled the cowl in place, watching as Morgan slipped on her mask and worked on braiding her hair back.

He noticed she'd gotten new ear piercings. She'd already had a pair of holes when they'd first met, but she'd gotten an extra hole in each ear, meaning her ears were adorned with two holes each. What struck him was that, despite the four holes, not a single earring actually matched each other. They all differed in size and shape and color. Once again, it was such a typical thing for Morgan to do that it left him feeling exasperated in the fond sort of way he'd been back in the day. He pushed that feeling aside, telling himself it was just an old, instinctual reaction that didn't reflect how he was currently feeling. Also, why was he even noticing things like this? So what if she'd gotten her ears pierced?

"You should take out your earrings," he said irritably, perhaps trying to justify him even noticing. "they're too recognizable."

Morgan blinked at him. "I'm not sure any criminal will be focusing on my earrings when i'm handing their ass to them." she pointed out. "also, I always braid my hair over them. So don't you worry your lil' butt."

He glared at her briefly , realizing he'd probably made a bit of a fool out of himself, and found that he didn't really know how to answer her now.

"Ready?" Morgan asked once he'd been a second too long to react. She took off the blue necklace around her neck, shaking her wings thoroughly as they reappeared.

He nodded, thankful for the change of subject, and walked towards the Batmobile, expecting she'd follow without instruction. She bound after him, jumping excitedly into the passenger seat of the vehicle.

"This car is so cool." she sighed, looking longingly at all the different buttons and levers in it. Batman could tell she was _very _tempted to press one of those buttons.

"Don't touch anything." he grouched.

Morgan withdrew her hand and intertwined it with her other one, settling them in her lap innocently. "I wasn't going to touch anything." she lied unconvincingly.

Batman briefly contemplated telling her to fly to Gotham instead. He ignored the urge and started the car instead, staying silent as they sped through the dark woods, Gotham looming ahead, the skyline painted orange by the many streetlights.

Part of him wanted to strike up some sort of conversation. If for nothing else, then to kill the tense silence. They'd never had tense silences back in the day.

But things were different now. They'd mace choices, and now they had to deal with the consequences. So he let the silence stay, not only because he wanted to tell himself he didn't care about the awkwardness, but also because he didn't really know what to say to her.

Morgan was fidgeting in her spot, which didn't really surprise him. She'd always fidgeted when she was nervous.

They hit the city a few moments later, Batman instantly looking for somewhere to park the Batmobile so they could split up and continue their search by the rooftops.

He found such an alley two minutes later. He'd barely killed the engine before Morgan was crawling out of the vehicle, stretching her wings once her feet touched ground.

"Stuffy.." She complained to herself before turning to him again. "Rendevoux here in two hours, unless we find anything?"

Batman nodded before handing her one of the earpieces they'd use to commmunicate. Morgan accepted it and put it in her left ear with practized ease.

He felt a small, instinctual part of him that was reluctant to split up, despite this being their plan. He knew that was only because they'd always stuck close on patrols back in the day. Partly because she was so new to the gig, but also because he, as her mentor, needed to actually be with her if he wanted to teach her anything.

He brushed the feeling off. She wasn't his pupil anymore. Splitting up to search for the Riddler made much more sense. They'd be able to cover a much larger area that way. Also, he wouldn't have to spend an entire evening with her, which Dick considered a small plus. He'd agreed to let Morgan help him track down Batman's killers, but that didn't mean he was any less displeased with her in general.

"Right then." Morgan offered him a small, cocky smile. "I'm off. Happy hunting."

She jogged away, jumping nimbly onto a small clutter of trashcanes, launching herself off of them to grab onto the bottom of the fireescape jutting out on the side of the building. Hoisting herself up, she ran up the staircase and disappeared onto the rooftop a moment later.

Batman shook himself awake, realizing he'd been standing, watching her for a long moment instead of getting to work himself.

He quickly headed in the other direction, using his grapple gun to reach the top of another building,

Briefly, he wondered if this team-up had been a bad idea after all.

Batman pushed thoughts of Sparrow and her counterpart away and focused completely on his mission instead. This was easy, safe territory. He knew how to handle patrols, and thugs if any of those would show up.

He'd travelled from rooftop to rooftop down two streets by the time he even met another person. Gotham was the kind of city that, apart from all the big, main roads, seemingly went completely dead during the night. Every normal civilian locked themselves indoors because at night; the criminals ruled.

Or, they used to. Now, the night was Batman's turf. He was the new ruler.

Still, Gotham was a dangerous place, and only those armed with weapons, or the criminals that knew they didn't have to fear anything but him, ventured out.

Indeed, Bruce had done a lot for Gotham, but Dick knew that, deep down, his guardian had never considered it enough. Bruce had been a perfectionist at his very core, something Dick knew they had had in common. As long as thugs and criminals still prowled the streets of the dark city, Batman would fight them. 'Well enough' was never going to be good enough. Only complete freedom would be.

And now that Bruce was gone, that dream, that goal, that _mission_ was passed onto Dick's shoulders.

Perhaps it was fools errand. After all, not even Superman had managed to completely free Metropolis of its criminal network, and compared to Gotham, Metropolis was downright innocent.

But he'd try anyway. The only way he'd be sure to fail was if he never tried.

With those thougths in mind, Batman paused as he spotted the first person he'd seen that night – apart from Sparrow – shuffling along the streets below him in a decidedly guilt manner. He kept looking about him as if expecting someone to arrive and attack him at any moment.

Dick's eyes narrowed behind the cowl as he finally realized who the man was. He didn't recognized this specific guy, but he knew who he worked for. Just like any other crazy villain in Gotham, Edward Nygma had goons. And just a the Joker's goons wore masks so signal their loyalties, the Riddler's men bore a trademark.

Batman pressed a hand to his ear, speaking in a low voice. "I found one of Nygma's henchmen."

There was a pause of two seconds before Morgan's voice trickled into his ear. "_Where are you? Should I come?" _

Batman refrained from shaking his head, knowing she couldn't see anyway. "No. I've got him. Stay where you are."

He leapt off the roof and floated soundlessly to the ground below, landing right behind the man.

Perhaps the flutter of Batman's cape, or maybe the goon's own paranoia made him look behind him, and he let out a strangled shout as he saw the hero standing behind him.

Batman didn't give him a second to compose himself as he grabbed hold of the front of his green jacket and back him into the wall behind them. The man's head slammed against the brickwall, pulling a groan from his mouth.

"Where is the Riddler?" Dick asked harshly, his mouth pulled into a sneer, intended to intimidate. In a low voice, he added; "Answer, and I won't send you to the hospital."

Dick heard Morgan's sharp intake of breath in his ear, but he ignored it, keeping his focus on the man before him.

"He-he told me to direct you. The sq-square on York Avenue. You know, the one with the fountain."

Batman studied the man with narrow eyes for a second. Detecting no lie in his face, he promptly knocked the man out and let him crumple to the ground, leaning against the wall.

"Sparrow-"

"_I'm just a street over. I'll be at the square in a minute."_

"I've got to make sure the police gets this guy. I'll be there-"

"_Dick, I've got this. Don't worry." s_he interrupted. He could hear her wings beat, the rush of wind, even though her small ear piece. "_I'm already there."_

He forced himself to trust her and focused instead on contacting the police. Then, because even though he told himself he'd trust her, he tied up the guy and left him for the cops to find, heading towards the square himself. He was not nearly as close to the square as Sparrow had been, and she also had the advantage of flight, so he knew it'd take him at least five minutes to reach his destination.

He'd been racing across the city for less than a minute when Morgan spoke up again.

"_There's nothing here." _she sounded frustrated. _"Maybe he-" _

Dick flinched involuntarily when her voice was drowned out by a deafening blast. He stopped in his tracks when it became apparent that the explosion – for that was what he'd identified it as – had come from her side of the conversation.

"Sparrow? What happened?" he demanded. When she didn't respond he found himself growing worried. "Are you okay? Morgan! Answer!" he heard shuffling and a small groan on the other side. Immediately, he started running again, finding his urgency to reach York Avenue greater than before.

"_I'm fine." s_he said, and Dick let go of the breath he hadn't realized he'd even been holding. "_Might have gone _deaf_ on my right ear, but you know. I'm fine." _

He sincerily hoped she was joking, but Dick didn't answer her, chosing instead to pick up his speed. Already, he could see the cloud of black smoke rising a few streets ahead of him, followed by the sound of fire roaring, consuming whatever had exploded.

Once he reached the square, Batman stopped at the edge of the rooftop, assessing the situation before approaching. Sparrow looked mostly unscathed as she stood, watching the burning car fifteen feet away. Strangely, around the car and across most of the square, pamphlets were strewn, some of them on fire too.

Batman jumped off the building and landed beside her, making Morgan jump in her spot, a colorful curse leaving her mouth. He looked at the papers around them, deducing that they must've come from the carbomb.

Before he could pluck one off the sidewalk, Morgan handed him the one she'd been holding.

"Guess we know where Riddler wants us to go." she sighed before heading for the fountain.

Batman looked at the pamphlet as he followed in her wake. 'Gotham Central Library' it read in large, fancy script, and then there was an invitation to come to their theme day on Acient Greece on the 20th.

Well, today was the twentieth, Batman realized when he spotted the large, ornate clock on the white church across the square. A few minutes past midnight.

"The car exploded at exactly twelve AM." Morgan explained as she worked on washing her stratched up hands in the fountain water. The water she touched turned a bloody pink until the color mingled with the rest of the water and became clear again.

"You're bleeding." he responded, finding he sounded a lot more like Dick than Batman. He eyed the blood that trickled along the side of her temple.

"I know." she said as she dug out a tissue from one of her pouches and soaked one end in the fountain before cleaning the blood off her temple. Batman felt the urge to point out that the water was most likely less than hygienic, and she probably shouldn't be getting it in her her wound, but he kept his mouth shut.

"It's a small scratch, nothing more." she assured him as she walked away, balling up the paper tissue and launching it into the nearest trashcan. Turning toward Batman who hadn't moved from his spot beside the fountain, she placed her hands on her hips. "Well? Are we visiting the library or what?"

He felt a small smirk almost threatening to claim his lips, but his face remained blessedly blank as he nodded once and, together, they ran off in the direction of the Batmobile.

* * *

If the Riddler blew up the libray, Morgan would _kill _him. Not only was that building pretty friggin' old and historical, it was also filled with so, so many rare and old books. Morgan got protective over books.

Which was probably why she had to sit on her hands and bite into her bottom lip to make sure she didn't urge Batman to drive faster ever two seconds. He'd sent her a glare like nothing else the first time she done it, so Morgan had decided to was wisest to keep her trap shut for the time being.

Still, those ten minutes of driving was spent doing a lot of fidgeting and trying to stop herself from jumping in her seat.

Eventually, they _finally_ arrived, and Morgan only just managed to wait for Batman to steer towards a dark alley to park the car before she jumped out of the vehicle, jogging out of the alley immediately.

Looking up at the huge building, she waited for Batman to reach her side.

"So, frontdoor or backdoor?" she asked, knowing he probably had knowledge of some secret entrance or something like that.

"Backdoor." he responded, grabbing hold of her shoulder and dragging her back into the alley.

Together, they walked around the building next to the library, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. They both suspected the Riddler might be nearby, so staying undetected was important. They crawled onto the roof of the building beside their target. Using its bigger height to their advantage, they glided across the small stretch of air between the two buildings, landing next to the glass dome at the centre of the library's roof.

Batman darted across the roof, Morgan slipping soundlessly after him. Reaching the edge of the roof, Batman used his grapplehook to glide down the side of the building, stopping by a small window. He unscrewed it swiftly and jumped inside. Morgan, who had been hovering in the air as he worked, flew in after him, and both of them landed on top of a bookshelf directly below the window.

"Split up or stay together?" Sparrow asked. She realized she'd been the one asking all the questions tonight, letting batman decide what they did. Maye that was for the best, she decided. He needed to know that he was the 'leader' of this team up. Maybe it was just a habit from her months of training and patroling under his mentorship. She'd never _not_ been on a mission with him where he made the calls.

"Split up." he decided before hopping off the bookshelf and heading in the direction of the very back of the library.

Morgan went the other way. Not twenty minutes later, the two of them met up in the front hall. Just like the pamphlet had promised, the big hall of the library was adorned with all sorts of things from Ancient Greece. Morgan suspected the statues were fake, but they looked impressive nonetheless. Large posters hung from the ceiling to the floor with pictures of art from that time period. She walked toward the posters, her boots padding softly against the dark marble floor.

Studying the picture, she recognized the figure on it. "That's Hades." Sparrow pointed, gaining Batman's attention. "Lord of the underworld, my favorite god from greek mythology. He's a seriously misunderstood god, you know."

Batman approached her. Morgan figured he'd tell her to focus on the mission or snap at her to not waste his time with mythology lessons.

Instead, he looked up at the picture and asked; "How so?"

"Well, everyone assume he's evil. Because he was surrounded by death and darkness and shadows. But really, out of him and his two brothers, he was the one who broke the least laws and created the least troube. Morally, he was better than a lot of the other gods." Morgan pointed a small, crooked grin at him. "He reminds me of Batman sometimes. Dark and brooding and misunderstood. People thought he was a villain too, in the beginning."

Batman looked at the picture for a bit longer before turning on his heel and continuing his search of the library. By now, the two of them knew the Riddler wasn't here. But they also knew that he would't have stood them up entirely. He was the _Riddler, _after all. The guy left clues behind.

Sparrow let Batman continue his search as her eyes swept across the other posters, identifying each god. _Zeus, Posiedon, Ares, Athena, Hephaestus.. _

Knowing she couldn't continue sightseeing without involuntarily annoying her companion, Morgan sighed and looked briefly back at the Hades poster, intending to move on.

Then, as she turned and took a step away, she paused and frowned, looking back at the poster.

There was something..

Walking closer, Morgan saw that, yes indeed, a small piece of paper was attached to the end of the poster.

As she plucked it off the poster, she read the message on it. It was a poem that sounded strangely familiar, and by the torn edges, Morgan could see it had been ripped out of a book. She would've dismissed the note as part of the treasure hunt-thing she knew the library made for kids on their special theme days, except, the Riddler had signed it with his trademark questionsmark at the end.

This was the clue they'd been looking for.

"Batman," Morgan spoke up to gain his attention. Something in her tone must've been different because he walked toward her in hurried steps.

"What did you find?" he asked, snatching the small piece of paper from her hand.

He read the message over silently before frowning and reading it out loud.

"_You shall go west, and face the god who has turned,_  
_You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned,_  
_You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend,_  
_And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end?_" he recited. "What the heck does that mean?

"I don't know." Morgan sighed. "But it's obviously from Nygma."

Batman reread the poem. "I'll need some time to mull over this. Do some research."

Sparrow nodded. "So I guess we're done here?"

"I guess we are." he agreed.

Morgan was about to approach him so they could leave, when his eyes widened behind his mask and he motioned for her to stay where she was. "Stop!"

Morgan, one foot in mid-step, wobbled for a moment before regaining her balance. Looking at her feet, she drew in a sharp breath at the tripwire her shin was pressing against.

"Well, shit." she looked up at Batman again as she put down her other foot, avoiding the wire. "Think it's a bomb?"

"Maybe." he sounded worried as he got on his knees to inspect the wire. He looked to both sides before getting up and walking along the near-invisible wire. He disappeared from view behind a statue and Morgan focused on breathing to avoid moving too much. She wasn't sure how much pressure it would take to active whatever trap the wire was connected to, and she'd rather like to avoid fidgeting it into going off.

_If Riddler blows up the library, I'm gonna kill him, _she vowed again as she waited for Batman to come back.

A moment later, he did come back, and Morgan prayed he had a solution. "So?"

"It's not a bomb. I'm not sure _what_ it is, though." he admitted.

"What do we do then?"

"I'm pretty sure I can just cut it. It should deactivate whatever the trap is."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "How sure?"

He fixed her with a look. "Pretty sure."

Not feeling overly confident with his answer, Morgan still decided to trust him. "Just do it."

He breathed in deeply once before bending down. Pulling out a batarang, he looked up at her and cut the wire. Before Morgan could react, he'd stood and grabbed onto her forearm, flinging her out of the way as he took a large jump backwards. Her forearm throbbed uncomfortably from his tight hold and she lost her balance as he threw her away like a rag doll, landing harshly on the floor.

For a second, nothing happened as one side of the cut wire was yanked away. Then, a large bucket of water fell from above, drenching the spot Morgan had been standing in before.

Silence reigned for a moment. Morgan raised an eyebrow.

"A bucket of water?" she almsot felt insulted by the cheap trick. "That's the laziest, oldest trick in the book!"

Batman approached the bucket and turned it over, finding a large green questionmark on the side.

"I don't think Riddler necessarily wants to kill us." he said.

"Which is why he made a freaking _carbomb-"_

_"_He's trying to tell us something." Batman cut her off, "But he's not trying to kill us. The only question is.. why?"

"Beats me." Morgan shrugged. "We'll probably know more when we've figured out that clue, right?"

He turned fromt he bucket and started walking back the way they'd come. "Hopefully."

"Hey!" Morgan realized as she trailed after him, "You said cutting the wire would deactive the trap! You could've killed me!"

Batman didn't answer.

Two minutes later, they were approaching the Batmobile.

Morgan stopped in her tracks as she remembered something. "Oh! Before we head back, can we stop by that chinese take-away that's just a few block away? It's on the way and everything."

Batman paused briefly before continuing their short trek twards the dark vehicle. "What's with you and chinese take-away?" he asked in annoyance, probably remembering that she'd been eating noodles just before they left.

Morgan shrugged. "I dunno. I just really, really feel like eating noodles right now. I got some from the place a few days ago, and they're the best thing I've _ever tasted._"

She wondered if Batman was rolling his eyes at her behind that cowl of his. Either way, he didn't seem keen on stopping for fast food on the way.

"If you insist on going there, you'll have to walk home." he told her flatly before slipping inside the Batmobile. The engine rolled over with a loud roar and Morgan quickly hopped inside, deciding she'd rather wait with that takeaway for tomorrow than flying home in the slowly gathering rain.

She'd just get her stupid noodles tomorrow.

* * *

July 20th

Morgan could feel her eyes stinging and slipping shut all on their own, but she forced herself to stay alert. The Batcave was cool in temperature, thankfully, which helped her stay awake a great deal. To help herself along even more, she got up and started pacing to herself.

Dick didn't seem to have an trouble staying alert at all, as he stayed rooted to his spot, focusing intently on the small slip of paper they'd brought with them.

Every so often, he'd mumble a phrase out loud and frown at the paper, his eyes squinting thoughtfully. He'd slipped the cowl off some twenty minutes ago, and Morgan had taken her mask off two hours ago.

"What could this possibly mean?" he sighed, sounding more tired than his body language had previously let on.

Morgan walked over and took the paper from him, wondering why the poem seemed so damn familiar. "I'm not sure you're supposed to understand it. It's obviously from a book. Perhaps, if we find the book, we'll know more."

"How do you know it's from a book?" he sounded sceptical.

"Because.. I've _read_ _it!"_ Morgan realized, feeling like lightning struck her as she remembered which book it was from. "Of couse!" she slapped her forehead. "Ancient Greece! It's not a poem, it's a prophecy!"

Dick looked strangely at her as she ran towards the batcomputer.

"May I?" she pointed at the computer, figuring she'd do well to ask for permission before using it. She didn't want to make him regret letting her help.

Dick shrugged. "Go ahead."

"I can't believe we didn't think of googling it." she let out a small laugh as she quickly typed in the text and hit search. The results stared her in the face a second later, making Morgan smirk to herself. "Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief." she announced proudly.

Looking at Dick for a brief second, Morgan saw his usually emtionless face sporting a look of confusion. "I used to _swallow_ those books when I was younger." she explained. "And because I was such a nerd about them, I memorized all the prophecies. _This _particular one," Morgan held up the slip of paper, "is from the first book in the series."

Dick nodded thoughtfully. "What do you think the Riddler wants to tell us with this? It's a _kids book._"

"Maybe something from the book mirrors what happened to Batman, but I don't think that's it." Morgan admitted. "I think we have to find the copy this slip of paper was taken from. It must be at the library."

"So let's go." Dick decided, already slipping the cowl back into place.

From her spot by the computer, Morgan watched him approach the Batmobile.

"Dick, wait." she called out, making him pause and turn towards her. Morgan took a deep breath, hoping she wasn't about to make him angry. "It's three AM.. And I'm exhausted. And so are you. Let's wait for tomorrow. We can visit the library during opening hours."

He was obviously about to protest, so Morgan quickly plowed on before he could.

"I want to figure this out too!" she assured him. "But we can't keep going all night, and the book isn't going anywhere."

Batman seemed to weigh her words. "When does the library open?" he asked eventually.

"Ten AM." Morgan responded, remembering having read the time on the pamphlet earlier that night.

"We'll be there nine fifty." he said sternly, even as he gave in to her request and slipped the cowl off of his face.

Morgan offered him a small smile, which he didn't return. She realized quite suddenly that she hadn't actually seen him smile once since coming back to Gotham.

Keeping the thought to herself, she followed him up the stairs and through the grandfather clock. In silence, they walked down the dark halls of the manor.

"I'll see you in a few hours." Morgan said by way of a goodnight, and then she walked into her own room and collapsed on her bed, falling alseep practically as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Over all, the night had been a success. Not once had the two of them bickered and been angry with each other. They'd actually managed to move the investiation along, and, most importantly, Morgan had made Dick go to bed willingly.

Yes, the evening had gone very well indeed.

* * *

And we've finally properly started the 'track-down-batmans-killers plotline'.

If it seems lame right now, just bear with me, I suck at writing mysteries and I promise it gets better as they go along.

Fun fact: I bet one of my friends I could go for a month without eating any candy of cake or snacks, and I've only got a few days left. I was at my cousin's birthday today, and I got to take a piece of cake home with me so I can eat is once the month is up and I'm SO EXCITED FOR THAT CAKE OK.

(this fun fact had absolutely nothing to do with today's chapter, but, eh, I'm the author so I'm in charge. Also, I'm running out of fun facts.)


	17. Library pt 2

**Chapter Seventeen: The Library pt. 2**

* * *

Waking up after only five hours of sleep was still as hard as it had been the first many times she'd done it, no matter how used she got to doing it.

Either way, up she had to go, and so Morgan forced herself out of bed and practically crawled into the shower, turning on the cold water to wake her up.

Twenty minutes later, she was out of the shower and dressed, massaging her large hair in her towel to dry it quickly. Then, with damp hair, she headed for the kitchen, suspecting Dick would be there soon enough as well. When he'd said they would be at the library at nine fifty, she knew he had meant it.

Morgan had only just poured herself a bowl of cereal and swallowed her first bite when he showed up. He was dressed in a pair of black jeans with a white t-shirt sporting the nirvana logo, and a black leather jacket. Not only did the outfit look really attractive on him, it was also a strange comfort to her. It was the sort of clothes he'd worn back when they'd still been dating. They were the clothes of a normal twenty one year old. Usually, all she ever saw him wearing were those stiff business suits, gym clothes or the Batman uniform. He rarely dressed like a young man anymore, and despite knowing she was probably only fooling herself, Morgan couldn't help but take the sudden wardrobe shift as a positive and promising change.

"'Morning." she offered before refocusing on her cereal.

He let out a small grunt as his reply before downing a big glass of milk and then hurridly started consuming his own large helping of cereal.

Despite his rapid pace, Morgan was in no hurry to finish her breakfast. She knew he'd want to leave as soon as possible, but, honestly, what was the point of arriving before the library even opened? Eating too quickly was unhealthy anyway. She'd eat her damn cereal at the exact pace she felt like eating in.

In the end, she needn't have worried about Dick rushing her, because due to his much larger serving, they finished at roughly the same time. The coffee machine finished brewing a steaming pot just as they stood, the smell too heavenly for Morgan to ignore.

"Cup to go?" Morgan suggested.

"Please," Dick responded shortly.

Morgan poured the black nectar into two thermal mugs and closed their lids before grabbing hold of her jacket, which she'd slung over a chair before eating. Then, she hurried after Dick, who was already waiting for her in his car.

The ride was silent, only the sound of them sipping their coffee breaking the calm. As they hit the outskirts of the city, Mogan realized that the silence wasn't tense like usual. Rather, it was just _there_. She wondered if it was because they were on a mission. They'd agreed just fine last night, as long as they were in a professional setting.

Morgan recalled how they'd always agreed best while on patrol, and thought that perhaps it wasn't so strange that he hadn't been as short with her as usual last night. As long they were in a professional, superhero environment, Morgan suspected they'd get along okay. Tolerate each other, at least.

She finished the thought just as Dick parked the car a street over from the library. He slipped out without a word, waiting briefly for Morgan to get out as well before heading off. She jogged around the car and to his side, walking briskly to keep up with his much longer strides.

Two minutes later, they arrived at the library – at exactly ten am, to Morgan's eternal satisfaction – expecting to find the front entrance open and welcoming people inside.

That wasn't, however, the sight they were actually greeted with. The place was locked up and obviously not open for business. Even worse, police appeared to be standing guard around the building, armed with guns and truncheons. Walkie talkies were strapped to their belts, ready to call for assistance if anything were to happen.

"What the..?" Morgan breathed out in wonder. Dick only paused for small moment before he marched towards the nearest police officer, leaving Morgan to scuttle after him.

"Good morning, officer." he greeted, sounding unchracteristically pleasant. "What happened here?"

"Bomb threat. A car exploded last night with a load of pamphlets about the exhibit goin' on today. The library is completely closed off until we can be sure nobody's gonna try to blow the place up." the officer replied gruffly. "Now, I'm gonna have to ask you to move along. Unless ya want to raise suspicions 'n such."

Dick looked decidedly less pleasant as he nodded once at the officer and walked off. Morgan followed, a sinking feeling in her chest. They wouldn't be able to enter the library unhindered today. And she'd been the one to convince him to wait. So he was probably going to blame her for the delay in their investigation.

As soon as they'd turned a corner, hiding them from view of the library and the police officers guarding it, he turned and aimed an angry glare at her.

Morgan found herself flinching slight as she took a step back. "Oh, c'mon," she protested. "How was I supposed to know they'd close off the library?"

"You shouldn't have told me to wait for today." he practically growled.

Realizing the sort of mood he was in, Morgan usually would've backed down. _Usually. _Perhaps it was because they'd gotten along pretty lwell ast night, which gave her more freedom – or perhaps it was because he was blaming her for something that was entirely out of her grasp. Either way, Morgan _didn't_ back down. She crossed her arms over her chest and aimed a displeased look at him.

"This is not my fault." she argued. "You could've just as easily figured out that they'd close the library down after that car bomb."

"If you hadn't told me to go to sleep instead of heading back to the library, it wouldn't have mattered whether the library was closed or not today," he retaliated. "Now we'll have to wait an extra day, just to break in tonight."

Morgan sighed harshly and ran a hand through her hair. He was going to blame her for their delay? Fine. Then she'd fix that delay, and he would have nothing to blame her for anymore.

"No, we wont." she told him firmly. Then she walked further into the small alley they'd headed into, placing her handbag on top of a closed trashcan. Pulling her hair out of it's previously messy bun, she let it bounce down her back, gathering the hair by her temples and pulling it back, fastening it at the back of her head with the hairband. Next, she dug into the handbag and produced a lipgloss she'd gotten months ago but hadn't really used yet, applying a quick layer on her lips.

"What are you-?" Dick wondered.

"I'm getting you inside that building." Morgan responded as she pulled a pair of scissors out of her bag as well, wondering why she even had them there to begin with – not that she was complaining.

Sighing briefly over the loss of a t-shirt she actually liked well enough, Morgan slipped it over her head – grateful that she'd worn a black tanktop underneath – and cut a line down the front as well as cutting several inches off the bottom.

Then because she _did_ own a bit of decency, and just because they'd slept together didn't mean she wanted to strip in front of him, she put the t-shirt on again before working herself out of the tanktop. Pulling at the white, fairly see-through t-shirt – meaning her bright purple bra was now easily detectable – she made sure it showed off her shoulders and an amount of cleavage she honestly wouldn't allow normally. It was much more than what she showed off in her Sparrow get-up. Now, her belly button was clearly visible, as well as part of her hips, and the shirt also showed off her shoulders, collarbone and a lot of cleavage.

If she didn't manage to capture the attention of the police officer she'd spotted standing guard at the left wing of the library, she would resign as a female.

Dick had been silent during the entire process of her small tramp-transformation, and as she turned around, he still didn't say much.

"I'm going to distract the guard on the left wing. There's a staff door there. It's probably locked, so do you have a lockpick?"

Dick managed to force his eyes to focus on her face instead of those few inches lower. "What?" he didn't sound angry anymore, just disapproving. "I'm not letting you seduce some guy, dressed like that, just to get inside a stupid library."

Morgan frowned at him and placed her hands on her hips. "Look, do you want to get that book or not? You do. So stop complaining." she responded, deciding to _not_ add 'We're not in a relationship anymore, so you don't get to tell me when to seduce guys and when not to, or what to wear or not'. "Now, do you have a lockpick or not?"

Dick looked mighty displeased, his jaw clenched as he gave her a stiff look, but eventually, he sighed and deflated, giving up. "My utility belt is in the car."

Morgan nodded. "Good. I'll wait for you here."

He looked like he wanted to protest for a second, but then he turned and left the alley, stalking towards the car.

Morgan released a deep breath and leaned back against the rough wall. She was pretty sure he hadn't realized it while they spoke, but Dick had very much acted the protective boyfriend that he'd been back in the day. It had sent a flush of warmth throughout her entire body – added greatly by his eyes tracing her exposed flesh – which she told herself had more to do with memories of their past romance than of how she currently felt.

Sleeping with him had been such a stupid idea. Obviously, she wasn't prepared to deal with the emotional consequences the act had caused. Every lingering gaze, every accidental touch, sent her back in time to relive those moments, made her desperately wish that things could be as they'd once been. His touch that night had sparked old memories and feelings, and now the downfall of not only their relationship, but also their friendship, hurt all the more for it.

If it had felt like a constant ache before, it was a gaping wound now.

Morgan groaned loudly to herself and hid her face behind her hands for a moment, running her fingers over her features and through her hair. Sighing loudly with her forehead resting in her palms, she forcefully pushed any thoughts of their one night stand and past relationship out of her mind. Dwelling on the past wouldn't help her at all. If anything, it would hurt her and make her task that much more difficult. She had to focus on what things were now without having to parallel them to two years ago. The sooner she got over him, the sooner she could help him.

Dick came back two minutes later, a time Morgan had used to compose herself fully and force her head back into the game. They were on a mission. She had to concentrate.

His utility belt was strapped across his back, hidden underneath his leather jacket. He held up the lockpick as if to prove he'd gotten it, his face a concentrated mask. Apparently, Morgan wasn't the only one who'd gotten their head in the game.

"Stay here until you find an opening." she advised. Then she offered him a small smile. "Good luck."

He nodded once at her. "Likewise."

Morgan left the alley, strutting as sensually as she knew how, keeping her eyes fixed on the police man, who was looking at his feet as he kicked at a stone in boredom. He looked like someone who'd want a distraction, especially if the distraction was a scantily clad woman. As she drew closer, he looked up and spotted her, and Morgan didn't miss his eyes as they travelled along her body before standing to attention.

Morgan faltered for a small second when she got a good look at him and realized that he was young and _handsome_. Groaning inwardly, she realized her situation had just gotten that much more complicated. He hadn't been supposed to be attractive. She wasn't _good _at talking with attractive guys, and especially not when she had to flirt. She wasn't even that good a flirting to begin with!

Biting down the utter awkwardness she felt at doing this, Morgan smiled cockily at him and bit into her lower lip, batting her eyelashes.

"Hey there, officer." she began in a suggestive voice, inwardly cringing at her already lame attempt.

"Hey beautiful," the young man responded unabashedly, clearly taking the bait as an annoyingly attractive smirk pulled at his lips, "What can I do for you?"

Morgan walked next to him and then a step further, prompting him to turn to face her, his back now to the alley dick was hiding in.

Morgan twirled a curl around her finger and kept a charming smile on her face. "I was just wondering what you officers are doing here, guarding the library and all."

He relaxed his stance, leaning against the rough outer wall of the giant library building. "There was a bombing threat, so we have to make sure no one enters the place." he explained. Over his shoulder, Morgan could see Dick peek around the corner, and then soundlessly sneak closer. Morgan made herself gasp in fake distress, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Oh, that sounds horrible!" she exclaimed, "The poor books!"

The man smirked like he doubted the blonde in front of him had ever read a book, and Morgan resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Behind them, Dick had reached the door and was crouched in front of it, working on the lock.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, we've got it all under control." the police man assured her.

Morgan giggled cutely and lightly slapped him on his chest, making sure to keep her hand there. "Oh, of course you do!" she grinned.

Dick sent her a slightly disgusted look, but she ignored it, keeping her eyes and smile on the man before her.

He didn't say anything, as if waiting for her to keep talking, but Morgan realized to her horror that she couldn't think of anything else to say. As the seconds went by and the silence grew progressively more awkward, Morgan panicked slightly and chose to simply say the first thing that came to mind.

She let out a sigh and smiled suggestively at him. "I've always wanted a man in a uniform." she whispered as she drew closer, playing with a button on his jacket. She held in a smirk when she realized how ironic that was.

Behind them, Dick stiffened and dropped his lockpick, the small metal thing clanging against the pavement.

The police officer was about to turn around and investigate the sound when Morgan panicked for good and, without thinking, grabbed hold of his face and pulled him down, kissing the guy square on the lips.

Dick had picked the lockpick up again, but instead of working, he was staring open-mouthed at them. Morgan met his eyes as well as she could from her spot and waved a hand at him in annoyance, silently telling him to get back to work.

He blinked awake and grabbed hold of the doorhandle, pulling the door open and disappearing inside. He'd apparently finished right as he dropped the lockpick.

Morgan immediately broke contact with the guy.

"Well," she began, dodging his face as he attempted to dive in again. She grabbed hold of the hand he'd snaked around her bare back, hastily pulling it off of her, taking a safety step back. "Thanks for that."

The guy looked slightly dazed, which was probably the only reason why she got to take three steps away before he woke up.

"Hey!" he called. "What's going on?"

Morgan groaned inwardly – she'd really hope for a quick getaway – and turned back around.

"Nothing." she shrugged. "I just changed my mind, is all."

The guy looked utterly lost for a second, but then he frowned at her, almost angrily. "Look, you can't just walk up to people and kiss them, and then change your mind afterwards."

She blinked at him, trying to remember how she'd even gotten herself into this mess of a situation.

Then she realized that she'd have to distract the guy until Dick came back out. She'd gotten him inside, but unless she distracted this guy, he couldn't escape without risking being caught.

So maybe it would be best if she stayed and talked some more, even though her insides were burning with mortification. And by maybe, she meant definitely.

Morgan sighed and walked back towards the man, hurriedly spinning some tale that could excuse her actions. Perhaps, if she managed to stall him with conversation, Dick could get back out without trouble.

Releasing her deep sigh, she prepared herself for the next several, awkward moments.

* * *

The drive back to the manor was.. tense, to say the least. Dick was being terrifyingly silent. His grip on the steering wheel was tight and he kept his eyes so firmly on the road, Morgan was afraid he'd somehow melt holes straight through the windshield.

In Morgan's lap, the first book of the Percy Jackson series rested innocently, proving their mission had been a success. Neither hero seemed particuarly thrilled at that, however.

Morgan sighed deeply. So, she'd kissed some guy to distract him – so what? She'd done it for the sake of their investigation, _and_ since they weren't even dating, Morgan wasn't sure Dick had the right to disapprove. Or even care, for that matter.

As he shifted gear rather forcefully, Morgan decided he didn't really seem jealous – she knew he probably wasn't – but more.. disappointed and disapproving. Like a dad would if he caught his teenage daughter with some guy.

Morgan sighed again and decided she didn't care. He could disapprove all he wanted.

"Can we please stop on the way? I need chinese takeaway, like, _right now_." she requested. She wasn't sure if her words would defuse or thicken the tension.

In the end, it seemed to do neither. Dick didn't respond, but he swerved off of the main road and headed in the direction of a side street. Morgan leaned forward to reach his GPS, quickly finding the restaurant she wanted and chosing it as their destination.

The GPS steered them easily towards the place, and they reached their destination five minutes later. Morgan was out of her seat and the car before it had even fully stopped. She made sure to slam the door of his expensive sports car as hard as possible, to show that she wasn't impressed by his sour and uncalled for behavior.

Then again, when had he _not_ been acting sour since she got back? This was nothing new. Maybe it bothered her because they'd been getting along pretty well the night before, and this felt like such an unnecessary step backwards.

He stayed in the car, but right as she reached the entrance to the diner, his window rolled down and he stuck his head out.

"Morgan," he called, only just loud enough for her to hear. She turned in her spot, managing to catch his leather jacket just in time before it hit her face.

"Wha-" she began before he interrupted her.

"You're still dressed like a hooker."he replied cooly. "And it could ruin my reputation and respect at the company if I'm seen with someone like that."

She gaped at him for a second as his words registered. Then, with a small growl of fury, she balled the jacket up and threw it at his car, turning on her heel and stalking into the chinese shop.

As she placed her order and waited for it, Morgan was visibly fuming and so the other people in the shop steered clear of her. Emerging ten minutes later, she was unfortunate enough to have a group of boys in their late teens pass by. The leader of the small pack whistled loudly at her, only further proving that Dick had been right – she did look like a hooker, even if she had done it for the sake of their investigation.

The boy, encouraged by his four friends, made some rude and sexual comment, and Morgan found that her temper was well and properly lost. She reached her clenched fist back and swung forward, catching him square in the face. The boy stumbled back and fell on his ass. None of the others had the chance to react before Morgan had reentered Dick's car and ordered him to drive off.

He obliged without a word, his leather jacket resting on the back of his seat.

"Told you." he mumbled as she fastened her seatbelt roughly.

Morgan glared at him. "Boy are gross. That proves nothing."

She slid down low in her seat and opened the box, stabbing a chopstick through a piece of beef and swallowing it without really chewing first.

A low, barely-there snort beside her made Morgan freeze and look sharply at her companion. He was schooling his features into a calm mask, but it was obvious he'd been fighting a smile only moments before.

Feeling oddly accomplished, Morgan felt a small smile grow on her face and she turned towards her window to hide it, biting into a chopstick-ful of noodles.

As soon as they got back, Morgan darted for her room to change her shirt and then she headed for the study. As expected, Dick was there. He hadn't opened the book yet, as if figuring she'd want to be there when he did.

Morgan picked up the thin book and flipped through it, looking for the page that had contained the prophecy the Riddler had ripped out for them to find.

"Here," she handed him the book once she'd found the correct page.

He took the book and studied the page. Then he flipped through a few pages. "There's nothing here." Dick sighed.

Morgan shrugged. "Maybe the book in itself is the clue. Not sure how, though. And maybe the book doesn't have anything to do with anything and we should be focusing on the prophecy he ripped out."

He snapped it shut and dropped it carelessly on the table, his frustration clear. "This is leading us nowhere."

Morgan picked it up again, turning the book over in her hands thoughtfully. "I'll read it. See if I can figure something out. And in the meantime, we should keep searching for the Riddler."

* * *

July 30th

Sighing, Morgan put P_ercy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_ down. She'd read through the whole thing now, and still she didn't understand what the Riddler had been trying to tell them. If the book was supposed to be a clue, it certainly hadn't been a good one.

"And that's the end." she said.

Her mom nodded. "Thanks for reading to me. It was nice."

Morgan reached forward and squeezed her mom's hand. "You're welcome. I just wish I could help more."

Abigail snorted. "You're helping me fight of boredom. I daresay that's helping quite a lot, sweets."

Morgan smiled. "I should bring Narnia next. Remember how you used to read those for me? When I was little?"

Abigail nodded, looking fondly ahead. "You had a huge crush on Edmund."

Morgan lightly slapped her mom's arm. "I did _not!" s_he protested. "I just thought he was the most interesting character."

"Whatever you say sweetie." her mom responded, a small smirk on her face. "Either way, it doesn't matter. I'm good to go next week, so you won't have to read for me anymore."

"Aw, but I was hoping we could finish the entire Percy Jackson series first." Morgan pouted jokingly. She was attempting to make light of her mom's situation. Both of them were trying to ignore that her mom was moving into a new, wheelchair friendly apartment. Morgan had been spending the last week packing up everything in the old apartment and moving it into the new one. She'd done everything she could to make the place look as much as their old place as possible, but hadn't quite succeeded.

Abigail snorted. "No thanks, darling. If I wanted more greek mythology, I'd go visit that new art gallery. It's all about greek art through the ages."

"What gallery?" Morgan tilted her head.

"You haven't heard about it? The museum branched out, so to speak. Moved all of their greek art, statues and everything, into this new building." Abigail frowned. "The new building is pretty close to the Narrows, too. Pretty risky if you ask me, all those old artifacts neighboring with criminals and drug dealers. They must be pretty confident in their security system."

Greek art gallery in the Narrows..

"Oh!" Morgan exclaimed. "_Oh!"_ She stood up, hurriedly pulling on her jacket and stuffing all of her things back into her bag.

"What?" Her mom asked, frowning a her daughter's rushed movements.

"Nothing," Morgan assured her, kissing her mom's forehead. "Sorry, I've gotta go. See ya!"

* * *

HEY!

I am so sorry for disappearing without a word! I was on vacation and had no computer for two weeks and I've only just gotten back. I completely forgot to mention this, which I apologize for!

I'm also sorry for returning with such a weak chapter, but sometimes filler is necessary for a smooth journey.

Anyways, I'm back and I promise to never disappear without a word like that again. I'm actually flatterede by how many people wrote to ask if I was ok.

Fun fact: I already told you guys I'll be crammin' as many greek and roman mythology references ino this stor as possible. In just under two weeks, I'll get a reply from Århus University about whether I've been accepted (Which I already know I will bc it's really easy to get in and I'm way past the mimimum requirement.) so I'm pretty excited to start studying these cultures for real!


	18. The Riddler

**Chapter Eighteen: The Riddler**

* * *

Morgan burst through the door to Dick's study, and blurted her reason out before he had the time to get angry with her for not knocking.

"The new art gallery in the Narrows!" she said, slamming her hands onto the table, meeting his eyes earnestly. "That's what he was trying to tell us!"

Dick surveyed her briefly. "What?" he said calmly, clearly not understanding.

Morgan rolled her eyes impatiently. "The smithsonian opened a greek art gallery by the Narrows – _greek _art gallery."

Dick realized what she was getting at, almost forgetting to keep up his sullen attitude as he stood quickly from his office chair. "You think the Riddler wants to meet us there?" he asked as he approached the piano and grandfather clock in the corner. Hitting the right notes, the grandfather clock slipped open and he slipped inside immediately. Morgan followed after, not caring to ask for permission first. This was Batman work, meaning she was allowed to be involved.

"I think it's worth a shot. Why else would he be on this greek mythology kick?"

Dick nodded as he slipped into the chair in front of the Batcomputer, typing away immediately.

"The museum opened last month – I can't believe I missed this!"

Morgan stood behind him, shrugging a single shoulder. "We should go there tonight. Hopefully, he's still waiting for us."

Dick nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen. "I'll see you here tonight at eleven sharp."

Capable of recognizing a dismissal when she heard one, Morgan agreed before leaving the cave, hoping he wouldn't get so lost in his research to once again skip dinner.

In the end, he _did _come to dinner, to her relief. Alfred and her ate in the kitchen, Morgan telling him about her visiting her mom and hearing about the art gallery. They cleared away dinner half an hour later and did the dishes in a hurry. Eleven was still four hours away, and she wanted to squeeze in a quick nap – she'd been sleeping badly the past few days and wanted to be sure she wouldn't be too tired to function properly tonight.

She managed to get in an hour and a half before her alarmclock woke her up at ten thirty. Briefly, she chuckled in sadistic humor at her completely destroyed sleeping pattern.

She was in the Cave at exactly eleven, figuring he'd somehow find a reason to be annoyed with her if she arrived early.

"So, let's go." Sparrow said as she walked past him towards the batmobile, tying her hair into the typical plait.

He was already in his Batman suit and she suspected he'd gone down here right after dinner and stayed all night. What he'd have been doing, she wasn't sure – probably brooding with a bit of research mixed in. Maybe he'd pulled out a picture of the Joker and stared at it with a frown on his brow and his chin leaning against his clasped fists. It was exactly what she pictured him doing when he was down here to brood.

He followed her to the vehicle, unlocking it as he went. Morgan jumped into the passenger seat, mentally grumbling about the lack of space for her wings.

They were in Gotham minutes later and Morgan eagerly left the Batmobile, stretching out her wings. As they spred as wide as they could go, she stretched her spine as well, moaning as it popped.

"You'd think such a tall man would invest in a bigger car." she told Batman as she walked past him towards the art museum, eyeing the building as she went. It wasn't as fancy as she would have expected. Maybe the people responsible knew that making it look expensive, right next to the Narrows, would be begging for a break in.

Then again, placing anything by the Narrows was begging for a break in.

Batman followed her a moment later, taking large strides to pass her – apparently it was important that he reach the building first.

Sparrow let him, watching as he eyed it for the best place to enter.

"Follow me." he ordered, keeping to the side of the building, disappearing in the shadows. Sparrow went after him, tempted to grab onto the end of his cape to make sure she didn't lose him in the dark. Not even her nightvision mask could discern black from black.

He led them to the other side of the building, approaching a side door. Pulling out a lockpick, he'd gained them entrance a moment later.

"Do we split up?" Sparrow asked as they entered the building. She was glad for the nightvision as the place was completely dark. It was a new moon outside and none of the lampposts on the street were functional. And even if there'd been a lightsource from outside, she doubted the heavy blinds would let in much of it.

"No. The Riddler has a nasty habit of setting up traps. If one of us springs one, we'll need the other person to get us out of it."

Morgan nodded and eyed the two halls in front of them. "Left or right?"

He wordlessly walked down the left one, leaving her to shuffle after him. "Guess it's the left one, then.." she sighed.

"Stay at a distance. If there _are_ traps, we can't risk both of us getting caught." he decided a moment later. Morgan wanted to argue that then maybe he should be staying his distance behind _her_ instead of instantly using himself as bait. But she knew it would be a pointless delay, if it didn't turn into a downright fight between the two of them.

This was, however involved she felt, his mission. She was the sidekick for now. And so she'd let him walk in front, no matter how reckless it seemed.

They walked in silence until they reached the actual art exhibits. They'd entered via a staff entrance before, but now they were in the actual museum part of the building. White marble statues stared at them as they walked past, eerie shadows cast across their stoic, stone faces. She grimaced at some of their tortured expressions and looked at a collection of vases instead.

They didn't encounter any traps, in the end. To both's surprise, lights flickered on and the Riddler stepped forward, looking mighty pleased with himself.

"_Well,_" he said loudly, placing his cane firmly on the floor. "I thought you'd _never_ get here."

Sparrow had never encountered the criminal before, so she studied him thoroughly. The green suit was a real eyecatcher, especially for someone with red-green colorblindness. Weirdly enough, she detected no hostility in his bodylanguage at all. She wasn't sure he was here to fight them.

"What do you want, Riddler?" Batman demanded gruffly. He stayed back and motioned for Sparrow to do the same, keeping a firm eye on the villain some thirty feet away.

The Riddler lifted his cane and studied it, fiddling it between his fingers.

"They killed Batman." he deadpanned.

Morgan and Dick both drew back in surprise – how had he known?

"Who are 'they'?" Dick asked sharply.

"I liked Batman." The Riddler shrugged instead of answering his question. "He was fun to play with. He was good at guessing my riddles."

Batman opened his mouth to respond, but Riddler held up a hand and slung his cane over his shoulder. "It's really not that complicated." he went on. "Someone killed my favorite plaything – without asking for permission, mind you – and I don't like that. I'll help you find them."

Sparrow felt her mouth drop open at his crazy proposition.

"Why should we trust you?" she immediately shot back, crossing her arms over her chest as the Riddler snorted out a laugh.

"Well, you don't really have much choice. It's not like you know who they are – and you probably never will without my help."

"How do we know this isn't a trap?" Batman demanded next, looking just as doubtful as Morgan felt. "And what do _you_ get out of helping us?"

They couldn't trust him – he was evil. He'd killed people in the past. Heck, he'd tried to off Batman a couple of times too. Trusting the Riddler to give them answers would be foolish.

The Riddler shrugged and looked at a statue, walking casually towards it. "What's in it for me?" he contemplated. "I get to play a game with you. Just like I did with Batman. I've been missing our games quite a bit since he disappeared."

"You're doing this because you're _bored?"_ Morgan couldn't help but ask. The Riddler turned to her like he was annoyed she kept talking. Maybe he'd hoped to catch Batman alone and considered Sparrow an unwelcome addition.

"_And_ to teach the people that did this a lesson. I told you; I don't like it when people kill my playthings."

"Say we accepted," Dick spoke up, and Morgan turned to him, thinking that _surely he couldn't be considering actually working with this nutjob. _"Say we accepted.. How exactly would you help?"

Riddler smirked and walked away from the statue and towards them. "I have ways of finding out who they were. All of them."

Batman stiffened and kept his narrowed gaze on the man.

"And I'll tell you, though not all at once; I need to get a bit of fun out of it too. Oh, but don't worry, I'll find a way to let you know when the time is right." he had reached them now and kept his eyes steadily on Batman, tilting his head as he studied the man. "Do we have a deal?"

Batman didn't move for several moments. Morgan closed her eyes, knowing how this was going to turn out and already thinking it was a terrible idea. But she knew Dick was desperate at this point; any chance he got to carry out this mission, he would take. Even if that chance came from a villain that the first Batman had never trusted. He needed closure, and perhaps the Ridder could help him get it.

"If you try to lure us into a trap.." he spoke slowly as he reached his decision. "I will hunt you down and throw you into Arkham."

The Riddler smiled hugely and reached out his hand. "Great! We have a deal then!"

Batman ignored his hand and turned in his spot, gliding out of the room like an angry, intense shadow.

"I look forward to doing business with you!" The Riddler called after his shadow, grinning at some inside joke he probably had with himself.

Sparrow lingered for a moment, glaring at the man.

"I'm warning you.." she spoke lowly so Batman wouldn't hear. "If you hurt him, you'll have me to answer to."

Riddler looked at her unconcerned. "Somehow, I'm not that worried." he mocked her.

The urge to punch him was very strong, but Morgan squashed it down and turned on her heel, speedwalking after Batman.

They'd left the building when Morgan rounded on him. "For the record, I think this is an extremely stupid idea." she said sourly.

He ignored her and kept walking in the direction of their parked car.

"Dick," she protested, jogging to catch up to him. She grabbed hold of his arm and made him turn around to face her. "Collaborating with the Riddler? That's a new level of recklessness. He's dangerous!"

"I _know _he's dangerous." Batman responded. "But this is my only shot at reaching these people, so I'll do it whether you like it or not."

"You can't trust him. You'll be willingly putting yourself in danger, putting yourself at the mercy of a man that's tried to kill Batman in the past!"

He peered at her with a dark look and Morgan got the feeling he was very close to losing his patience with her.

"If you've got such a big problem with this plan, then stay out of it; I can do this just fine by myself." he said darkly. "Remember, I _allowed _you to join in on this. And I can just as easily terminate our partnership."

Morgan gaped at him briefly, feeling anger boil beneath her skin.

"_Du ville få dig selv slået ihjel med det samme, hvis jeg ikke var her til at holde øje med dig_." she bit out, turning away from him and towards the Batmobile.

He must've sensed the defeat in her tone because he said nothing further.

She couldn't let him do this alone. As reckless and stupid as Morgan thought it was, she found she couldn't bring herself to consider dropping out. This team up was something she'd fought for and she wasn't about to let it slip through her fingers because she was distrustful of a villain. He didn't know it, but he'd probably need her there to watch his back before this was over.

He unlocked the car and Morgan slipped in, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at her knees. The egine turned over and Dick backed them out of the street.

"Did you.." he spoke, to her surprise, somehow managing to sound annoyed, angry and yet vaguely amused at the same time. "Did you just say I'd get myself killed if you weren't there to keep an eye on me?"

It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about and when she did, her eyes widened and she looked at him in shock. "You understood that? How?"

He seemed slightly uncomfortable, refusing to look at her as he explained. "Back when you left, I, uh, I took some online lectures in danish. I.. wanted to surprise you when you got back."

Morgan's mouth formed a small 'o' and she turned to look out her window, feeling strangely flattered and awkward.

He was obviously even more uncomfortable than her as he gripped the steering wheel tight and let out a small huff of air. "Waste of time, as it turned out." he mumbled under his breath. She wasn't sure it was something she was supposed to hear, but she did, and guilt ate at her insides. He'd sounded more sad than angry – Resigned, almost.

She bit into her bottomlip as she looked out her window at the passing streets.

His unexpected mention of their past relationship had reminded her of something else. She remembered that Barbara had urged her to talk to him about it. The _thing._ Morgan opened her mouth and then closed it again as she chickened out. Repeating the process twice, she finally managed to get out a single word. "So.."

Dick didn't react. His covered eyes stared stiffly out the windshield as he expertly swerved around traffic to reach the Batcave faster.

She sighed and looked out her window, wishing he'd acknowledge her, at the very least to make this easier.

"If you've got something to say, spit it out." he flatly ordered some time later.

Feeling like she was about to jump into the ocean without checking for sharks first, Morgan blurted out; "Are we ever going to talk about it?"

A _very_ long stretch of silence followed, making her think he might've chosen to simply ignore her.

Then; "Talk about what?"

She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold. The car wasn't chilly at all – she knew it was purely nerves screwing with her.

"The fact that we had sex and then never talked about it. Are we going to acknowledge that or just pretend it didn't happen?"

If the silence hadn't felt loaded before, it certainly did now. It felt _extremely_ loaded.

He drew in a short hissing breath, as if unpleasantly surprised by this new subject. "Talking about it isn't going to do anything." he eventually chose to answer.

"Well, we can't very well just _ignore_ it." she protested. "I'm not sure about you, but I'm pretty sure not talking about something like that gotta be unhealthy."

"Well, what do you want me to say?" he responded grumpily, sounding this he'd rather battle ten Bane clones than have this talk. "That I'm sorry?"

"You could start by explaining why _you_ even did it in the first place." she quickly responded. She knew why _she'd_ done it. Now she just needed to know why he did.

"I was drunk, okay?" he snapped at her. "I was tipsy and angry and we've had sex before so it wasn't like it was a huge deal. Just – just stop talking, okay, Morgan?"

She stared at him for a long while, feeling unexpectedly _hurt _by his words. She felt.. used. Even though she'd apparently wanted it more than he had.

"Let me out of the car." she said when she was sure the stinging in her eyes was from stupid, treacherous tears and not because she was tired.

He looked at her briefly but turned his attention back onto the road, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

"Richard John Grayson, you let me out of this goddamn car _right now." s_he hissed.

His lip curled in anger but he slowed down and left the main road, driving into a small alley.

Morgan unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. Casting one last look at him, she couldn't resist spitting out whatever hurtful thing she could think of, childishly hoping to wound him like he'd just wounded her.

"For the record, your fit body really doesn't make up for that shit personality. You need to pull your crap together or you'll end up a lonely, pathetic person."

She slammed the door as hard as she could and pull the hood from her cape up, marching away from the batmobile. Darting down the small backalley and turning into the next, she did her best to disappear in the shadows. Her cape fluttered behind her as her boots softly hit the asphalt.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid.. _

She had known asking him about that night had been dumb from the start. And what she'd said at the end really hadn't been okay. She knew Dick was struggling a lot right now – her drama and anger wasn't helping.

Morgan scoffed and wrapped her arms around herself in her discomfort. _Stupid.._

She felt utterly wretched. Asking him why he'd slept with her – why he'd let her sleep with him, whichever way it had been – had only served to leave her wide open to getting hurt. And he hadn't even done anything but speak the truth.

Impulsively, she kicked at a garbage container, jumping back in surprise when she upturned the large container, trash spreading everywhere.

Pausing, she felt embarrasment sweep through her – she thought she'd gotten better at keeping a leash on her powers. Back in the day, she'd had trouble with accidentally tapping into her power when she physically attacked something, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd done that. It had certainly been more than a year.

With a sigh, she spread her wings and beat them once, the force of it sending her into the air. She landed on the upturned container, sitting on the edge. Leaning her elbow against her knee, she rested her chin in her hand.

Getting into that fight with him had been stupid and totally counterproductive. Who knew when they'd be okay to talk with each other again after this. She'd intended to remove some of the tension between them by bringing it up. She'd hoped talking it out would've made things between them better. And it had absolutely blown up in her face – and it was entirely her own fault.

The urge to rub tiredly at her eyes tempted her to take off her mask, but she didn't do it. Instead, she ran a hand over her hair and pulled her braid over her shoulder, playing with the end. She'd calmed down already. Morgan was quick to anger, but it passed quickly too. And now she bitterly wished she hadn't told him to let her out of the car. She wished she had held her ground and forced them to talk it out instead of fleeing.

She wished she hadn't let his words hurt her as much as they'd done.

"_You could start by explaining why you even did it in the first place." s_he'd said. Why? What had she hoped he'd say – that he'd slept with her because he was still attracted to her? Still had feelings for her?

Morgan scoffed at her own absurdity and hopped down from the garbage container, using her telekinesis to turn it the right side up. She spent the next couple of minutes moving the spilled trash into the container again, her conscious sternly telling her that she'd made the mess so she'd better clean it up.

She was almost done when she heard footsteps approaching. Her head snapped in the direction of the sound, masked eyes narrowing at the end of the alley, knowing someone was about to turn the corner.

A nagging feeling told her to hide, so she flew up and onto a rooftop, peering down and waiting for the person to show themselves.

A man in his mid-forties emerged a moment later, looking about in earnest. He stooped low to the ground and picked up what Morgan realized as one of her own feathers.

She felt the blood turn to ice in her veins as Morgan thought she recognized him. Unexpectedly, her hands started shaking in shock and fear and she drew back from the edge of the rooftop, turning on her heel and running in the opposite direction before the logical part of her brain could force her to stay behind and make absolute certain that it was him. She jumped off the roof and spread her wings, flying away and in the direction of Wayne Manor as fast as she could.

What was he doing in Gotham? What was he even doing in America!

She shook her head and tried to make her limbs stop shaking – why was she so affected? Goddammit, he wasn't even a real threat to her!

She dearly hoped so, at least.

* * *

August 10th

Morgan was beginning to think the two of them may very well be the world champions at sweeping things under the rug.

She had stayed at her mom's future home for two days, unpacking boxes and fixing up the kitchen and the living room. Her mom wasn't moving in for good for another couple of weeks yet, but Morgan figured she might as well use her self-inflicted temporary exile as an opportunity to get a head start on unpacking.

After those two days, though, she was forced to admit that she certainly wasn't helping Dick much by staying away from him. She'd sworn she would do what she could to knock sense into his annoying skull, and she couldn't do that from a distance.

So the next day she sucked it up, swallowed down her pride and returned to the Manor.

And once she returned, she found that everything was..

The exact same.

Dick didn't treat her any different than he had before. Granted, they only interacted whenever they talked avenging business and since the Riddler hadn't done anything yet, there had _been_ no avenging business.

But he didn't glare at her more or flee the room faster than he had before.

So Morgan made no mention of their disasterous argument. She pretended it had never happened, just like he did. It was easier.

They had so much shit they needed to talk out – but it seemed physically impossible for them to do so without ending up at each other's throats. She wished it wasn't so, but it was and she'd have to accept their situation as it was instead of how she wished it was.

Dammit, he was killing her.

A whole week passed by from her return until he actually said anything to her.

She was in the library, reading a book about mythical creatures. Focusing mostly on the Scandinavian section, she was reading about the Kraken when the large oaken doors opened with a creak.

Still not looking up from her book, she made a mental note to fix that creak – and then immediately cringed when she realized how much of a housekeeper she was turning into.

The silence at the door made her realize it was either Dick or Damian that had entered and so she quickly looked up. She didn't want to risk irritating Dick if it was him or accidentally leaving herself perfectly open for a sneak-assassination if it was Damian. She had heard the story from Tim about how the boy had tried to kill him more than once in the beginning. Personally, Morgan wasn't sure if she found it horrifying or hilarious that a ten year-old had tried to off his adopted older brother so he could take over as his dad's crime-fighting sidekick.

She spotted Dick and closed her book. He was looking directly at her, which she new meant he wasn't here to pick up books – he was here because of her.

"What's up?"

"Riddler." he responded simply. Morgan shot up in her seat and set the book aside immediately, following after his retreating back.

As they descended the stairs to the Cave, Morgan was surprised to see Tim and Damian down there, dressed in their suits.

Dick looked just as surprised as she did, pausing so abruptly Morgan had to swerve to the side to avoid walking into him.

"What-"

"We want in." Tim immediately cut in, his jaw squared in a stubborn line. Damian was regarding them with his arms crossed over his chest, his typical frown on his face. "We know about your deal with the Riddler, and we want in."

Morgan could see Dick's shoulders tense, his hands clenching at his sides, and already knew he would say no. But she didn't agree with him – this was their dad too. They had the right to avenge him too.

"Sure, why not?" she instantly said loudly, sending Dick a look, "The more the merrier, right?"

"I don't-" Dick began again, his jaw tight.

"Save it, Grayson." Damian interrupted him this time, and Morgan had to repress a smile at Dick's annoyed look from being cut off a second time. "I can't speak for Drake, but Bruce was my father and I wish to make his killers pay."

"Of course you do, Damian." Morgan assured him, determined to make sure Dick didn't get to exclude the two boys. "Just give us a moment to get dressed and we'll _all_ go."

Dick shot her a glare that seemed fiercer than usual, but she returned it with a stubborn look and crossed arms.

"We're leaving in five minutes – anyone who isn't ready gets left behind." he sullenly gave in, marching towards the displaycase with the Batsuit.

Morgan was grateful that the Cave had changing rooms as she quickly retrieved her own suit. She'd kept it in a box in her closet up to a few weeks ago. Dick had approached her and said leaving her suit in her room was a risk for all of them – if any outsiders were to stumble upon it, it could endanger all of their secret identities. So he'd let her store it on the Cave instead, which Morgan figured was a good thing – apparently, he finally trusted her enough to let her down here without supervision.

It was nice, particularly because he'd grudgingly allowed her to snoop through their gadgets and borrow some. She knew her newly acquired taser and the electronic lockpick would come in handy at some point. Maybe she'd use the taser on Batman tonight if he was being too dickish about Red Robin and Robin joining.

As she emerged from the changing room, braiding her hair as she went, she saw all three boys stood waiting for her.

"We won't all fit in the Batmobile." Batman pointed out as she'd reached them. She realized he was right – the vehicle only had two seats, and Morgan was _not_ sharing with Tim or Damian.

"So what do we do?" she asked.

"You and Red Robin will take the bikes." he pointed at a series of motorcycles parked a little further down, next to the Batwing. Morgan recognized one of them as his old one – the on he'd used as Nightwing. "Robin and I are in the car."

Robin didn't look pleased. "Why do _I _have to go in the car?"

Sparrow frowned at him and tilted her head to the side. "Because you're eleven and shouldn't even know how to ride a motorcycle in the first place?"

Robin offered her a glare despite Morgan thinking her point was very valid.

"Damian. Car, now." Dick said firmly, clearly not in the mood for their bickering.

Morgan followed after Tim as he approached the bikes. There were a bunch of them, each clearly custom made for each of them – the completely black one was Batman's, the red one was Red Robin's, the one with the yellow sides were Robin's and the black one with the blue stripe on each side was Nightwing's. Not that there really was a Nightwing anymore.

The last thought left a slight sting in her chest, but she ignored it firmly, determined to keep her focus on their mission.

"This one is mine." Red Robin said, pointing at the red one.

"Which one do I use?" she asked.

"Take Nightwing's. It hasn't been used in a while, could use the exercise."

She complied easily, mainly because it was the only one of the bikes she'd been on before, so it was the one she knew best.

The keys were already in, so she turned them, doing her best to recall the lesson Dick had given her in riding a motorcycle two years ago. She didn't actually have a license for a motorcycle, but she was pretty sure she could remember the stuff he'd taught her.

To be fair, they'd kinda started making out in the middle of it, so maybe that lesson hadn't really been that helpful at all.

The machine roared to life and she tested it for a second, making sure she knew which thingy made the bike move and which made the bike stop. She figured those two were the most important.

The Batmobile had already left the cave, and Red Robin was waiting for her expectantly by the entrance, having expertly steered his bike there while she worked on figuring out how to move hers.

"Uh, Tim?" she spoke up, turning off the bike and getting off of it. "I think I should probably practize a bit before actually driving on a mission."

"Don't sweat it, I'll give you a few lessons if you want." he soothed, Morgan smiling thankfully at him. "For now, you can ride with me."

She left the huge motorcycle and jumped off the platform, gliding down to the level he was on. "Thanks." she sighed, jumping up behind him and holding onto his shoulders as he sped up and led them out of the cave, accelerating to catch up to the batmobile. She wrapped her arms more firmly around him to keep from falling off, peeking over his shoulder to see the road ahead of them.

For a second, when they reached Gotham, as she sat on the motorcycle behinder him, Morgan was brought back to when she'd been with Dick in Gotham, riding behind him in a similar fashion. He'd reunited her with her mom that night and Morgan had kissed his cheek in thanks.

It truly seemed like a lifetime ago now. She made a mental note to visit her mom at the rehabilitation centre soon. She hadn't seen her for more than a week now and it made her feel like a bit of a failure as a daughter.

"We're here." Red Robin pointed at the Batmobile as it slowed down in front of them.

"Where is 'here' exactly?" she asked. She could vaguely recognize the place. But Gotham was a huge city with an endless number of streets, so maybe she only thought it looked familiar because they all looked the same.

Red Robin parked the bike next to the Batmobile, the two of them jumping off as Robin and Batman emerged.

"So, Bats." Sparrow spoke up. "Mind telling us where we're going?"

"The park." he responded shortly, nodding his head in the direction they were heading.

* * *

Oh, hi - it is I, the horrible person-that-cant-seem-to-post-regularly-right-now

Guys, I'm so sorry my posting is this irregular. I'm in the middle of moving out on my own for the first time, so my days have been very stressfull and I've gotten exactly zero writing done.

But I really didn't think it would be fair to leave you all hanging without a word of warning first.

So this is my word of warning: I'm gonna be gone for some time. I need some time to catch up on my writing, get some chapters ahead to make sure the quality doesn't suffer. Also, I start my first semester at University in a month, so I need to be prepared for that - as well as adjust to moving out. Basically, lots of stuff is going on and because of this, I don't have a lot of time to write, and when I do, my muse is failing me bc I have so many other things to think about.

I promise this story is not over, I'm not abandoning it - and I really hate that I have to do this - but I will be taking a break from posting. I need to sort it out and regain the passion I had for it in the beginning.

The tumblr for my stories will still be active and I'll be even more active on it than usual to make up for my absence on FFnet, so you can still contact me there. As usual, the URL is feathers-in-the-night

Fun fact: I really wanted to rewrite a lot of this chapter, but I knew I wouldn't have the time this week and tbh I reallly just wanted to go you something to read.


	19. Tunnels

**Chapter Nineteen: Tunnels**

* * *

The four of them snuck along the dark street, heading for the park opposite it. Gotham had very few parks, and most of them were kinda gross and sickly because of the pollution and general carelessness when it came to throwing away trash that covered the city. This one was probably one of the better, though, with mostly healthy looking trees and decently kept paths.

Four shadows crossed the street, disappearing into the foliage of the park. There were no streetlights there, nothing to light their path, making Morgan exceedingly glad for her nightvisioned mask. Batman kept looking at the small computer screen in front of him, identical to the one he'd had as Nightwing, as he led the way. Robin was right on his heels, the hood of the short boy's cape drawn, he face a resolute mask. Beside him, Red Robin walked, his face hard and his stride stiff.

With a small stab in a chest, Sparrow was uncomfortably reminded that the three boys in front of her were tracking down their father's killers. She brought up the rear in their group, jogging along to keep up with the long strides of Batman and Red Robin. She was glad she wasn't the only shorty in their group, or they'd probably just accidentally outrun her.

For five minutes, they simply walked. Batman kept looking at the map on his screen, so Morgan could only assume he somehow had the exact location.

She wondered what they could expect once they reached the spot. Would the Riddler be there? A trap? A clue as to who the Darkness were?

She was on high alert, knowing a trap was more likely than not – the Riddler was known for his fatal games. If you solved a riddle wrong, you died.

The best case scenario would obviously be a clue of some sort. Preferably without some lethal prank.

Unfortunatly, this was Morgan's life, so the lethal prank was far more likely.

Batman stopped suddenly. "This is as far as my coordinates go." he admitted. "Whatever we're looking for, it's somewhere within the next two hundred square meters."

Red Robin pullled out a pair of binoculars and scanned the area. "I see nothing." he revealed after a short moment. "Whatever we're looking for, it's hidding in the foliage."

"We split up." Batman decided. "Two and two. This is the Riddler we're dealing with, so be ready."

Sparrow walked up next to Red Robin – she wasn't about to get in between the dynamic duo deal, so Batman and Robin could team up to their hearts content. Besides, she was pretty sure ging on a mission with Tim would be far more pleasant than Batman or Robin. Those two where no fun at all.

"Dibs on the right side." she declared, offering Tim a small smile.

"As soon as anyone finds anything, they contact the others."

"Good luck."

They split up, the two teams losing sight of each other quickly as they blended in with nature.

Sparrow let Red Robin lead, knowing that, despite her age advantage, he was way more experienced than her. She'd never dealed with the Riddler before – except for that short encounter between Batman and her, and the Riddler a little over a week ago. She wasn't sure if Tim had had dealings with the green-clad pestilence before, but she assumed, as a former Robin, he would know everything about him. The amount of homework Nightwing had bestowed upon her back when she'd trained under him had been a clear sign that Batman was _that_ sort of mentor. Whenever she'd complained about it back then, Dick had told her she should be glad he wasn't Batman, who would've given her even more homework.

"There's some water coming up." she said conversationally, her ears picking up the sound of water trickling merrily.

"If I remember correctly, there's a small pond of sorts further up." Red Robin revealed. "A small clearing."

"Lets check it out." she took resolute steps forward, completely forgetting to look where she stepped. A surprised yelp escaped her lips when something snagged around her boot, turning her upside down as she suddenly found herself hanging from a tree. She dangled a bit, flailing around as she tried to regain her bearings. Red Robin stood for a moment before small chuckles escaped him, turning into outright laughter as she started spining slowly, her cape dragging against the ground.

"Tim!" she protested, pulling futily at the robe keeping her trapped. "Stop being a useless ass and come help me!"

He coughed and tried in vain control the smirk on his lips as he came over. Moran sliced through the rope with a batarang she'd nicked from the Cave a few days ago, and Tim mercifully caught her before she crashed head first to the ground. She would've flown or suspended herself with her telekinesis, but the wasn't enough room to beat her wings, nor enough time to get a mental hold of her plunging body.

"Stupid Riddler.." she grumbled as Tim set her on the ground. Her stomach roiled uncomfortably from all the sudden, gravity defying moves.

"You should be thankful – this is one of his most harmless pranks I've ever seen."

"Yeah well, I won't -" she stopped short as nausea suddenly overtook her body, and she stumbled a few steps away, turning around to hurl into a bush.

Red Robin hovered where she'd left him, obviously greatly surprised by this turn of events.

A moment later, she stood again and wiped at her mouth, spitting to get rid of the vile taste. "Ugh, I don't feel so hot." she admitted, feeling queezy and uncomfortably warm all of a sudden.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Sorry – I ate too much at dinner and I think being turned upside down so suddenly disturbed my stomach." she explained. A dull throb came from her ankle as she put weight on it, and she worried it had gotten hurt.

"Let's move on." she insisted. "I'm fine now."

Her stomach still complained and she still felt nauseated, but she ignored it as they pressed on, breaking free of the foliage as they reached the small pond Red Robin had mentioned.

In a bittersweet moment, Morgan was reminded of a pond much like this one, in another Gotham City park, and the memories it brought with it.

She didn't think on it for long, though, as the giant stone statue in the middle of the pond drew her eyes.

"Is that supposed to be there?" she asked, pointing loosely at it. It was clearly of greek origin, the white marble fashioned to look like a young woman. She was plumb, as all statues from that time tended to be, dressed loosely in a flowing dress that did not cover her chest. In her left arm she carried a basket, filled to the brim with fruit.

Red Robin shrugged his shoulders and began circling the pond, taking in the statue from different angles. The statue could've easily been part of the park, but with a nagging thought at the back of her head, Morgan recalled how the Riddler had used a poem from a book about greek mythology to guide them to a greek art exhibit. Surely, the fact that they stumbled across a greek statue in the park they were searching for the Riddler in, couldn't be a coincidence?

"Look here." Red Robin spoke up once he'd reached the other end of the pond. Morgan peered around the statue to spot him and jogged to where he stood.

He pointed at the green questionmark painted on the base of the statue, confirming that Morgan's suspicions were correct.

"I guess we found our clue."

"I'm contacting Batman." Red Robin pressed two fingers to his ear and spoke, explaining that they'd found it.

Eyeing the statue, Sparrow wondered if she could move it with her telekinesis. If it was their clue, surely they'd need to examine it closer. But she couldn't be sure Riddler hadn't rigged it with some sort of trap, perhaps even explosives. Despite him claiming to want to help them, she didn't trust him at all to not try harming then.

Instead, placing a boot-clad foot into the cool water, she was pleased to discover that the pond was very shallow. The water reached just below her mid-calf, ensuring it couldn't even get into her boots.

Walking cautiously towards the statue, she wondered how exactly it worked as a clue. Was it the location? Or the statue itself? And why did he feel the need to help them via a greek mythology theme?

Batman and Robin appeared just as she came within reaching distance of the statue.

"This is the clue?" Robin asked doubtfully, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Red Robin showed them the green questionmark and Robin's doubts disappeared, though he still looked unimpressed.

"We're not exactly sure _what_ it means, though." Morgan admitted, taking a step closer. So far, the pond hadn't swallowed her up and no explosives had gone off, so she relaxed slightly, bringing a hand up to touch it.

"Sparrow, don't touch it." Batman said sternly. "We can't be sure it's safe."

"Don't worry, I already sprung Riddler's 'trap'." she informed him, rolling her eyes behind her mask. "All it got me was a bruised ankle and a wave of nausea. The guy's gone soft."

She laid a hand upon it, instantly becoming aware of her mistake as the muddy ground she stood on gave way, letting her, the statue and all the water and muck from the small pond disappear from sight.

Letting out a surprised squeak, she found herself falling into a black abyss, unsure where it would lead her and how far the fall was. Recollecting her wits, Morgan spread her wings to break her fall, but she needen't have bothered as she hit the ground a second later. Pain rattled up her frame as she landed, but the fall hadn't been far and she was sure she'd be fine. The statue beside her wobbled heavily and she quickly rolled out of the way as it fell over, landing where she'd been a second ago.

The water hit her a moment later, drenching her where she lay. Getting up on her knees and arms, she wiped at her face and spat a stray leaf out of her mouth, the voices of her companions reaching her.

"Sparrow!" She recognized Dick's shout, mingling with Tim's demand to know if she was alright.

Look up, she could see three black silhuettes peering down from the hole she'd fallen through.

"I'm fine!" she called, aware that the room she was in was bathed in shadows and they probably couldn't see her. She got to her feet, shaking her arms once to get rid of the water dripping off of her.

"We're coming down!" Batman called back, appearing a moment later. His cape fluttered as he descended, landing soundlessly beside her. Robin appeared next, using the same grapple-line as Batman. Red Robin came after him, and the three of them took in the small cave before Batman's gaze landed on her.

"I told you not to touch it." his tone was flat as he moved past her, approaching the statue.

Morgan rolled her eyes as she started wringing out the water in her braid, picking leaves and mud out of her hair. "Yeah, yeah.. You're so clever." she mumbled under her breath, sticking her tongue out at Tim when he shot her a laughing smirk.

The sound of stones clattering about drew their attention and they looked over at Batman as he picked up the head of the statue. It had been severed after falling over, flakes of marble falling off as he held it.

Morgan felt a small stab of regret. The statue had been beautiful, perhaps even an original. If it turned out she was responsible for the destruction of a statue that was several thousand years old, she would kill the Riddler.

As Morgan approached, she crouched next to the body, spotting a small mark at the base. With a sigh of relief, she learned that the statue was new – made for the exhibit, barely a few months old, according to the date on the stamp.

"It's a statue of Persephone." Robin suddenly spoke up.

Morgan looked at the boy briefly, frowning in thought before regarding the statue again. She realized that, indeed, the statue was a replica of another she'd seen in a book before, during the ancient history class she'd taken in high school.

"He's right." Morgan agreed with him, standing to face Batman as he rose as well, letting the severed head from the statue fall to the damp ground with a _thud. _"I recognize it now that I really think about it. Goddess of.. plants."

She met Batman's gaze as he looked at her, seemingly reaching the same conclusion as her. "You think..?"

"Poison Ivy?" She suggested, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe. Explains why we found it in a park."

"So how does that help us?" Robin asked next. "Knowing it's her doesn't mean anything if we can't find her."

He was right. Some help the Riddler proved to be. A name was all well and good, but Sparrow would've preferred coordinates or perhaps an address. Still, she supposed this was better than nothing. They had a name now, at least. And Batman had had dealings with the femme fatale several times before – surely they knew enough about her patterns and usual hide outs to track her down. Maybe.

Hopefully.

"We should probably search for some sort of clue on the statue." Red Robin suggested. "Maybe it'll reveal where she is."

They spent the next few minutes scanning, touching, studying and examining the marble figure with no results. It was just a statue.

Morgan was slowly accepting her fate – a night by the batcomputer, trying to stay awake as they scoured any available database that could hint at her whereabouts. Then Batman stood to his full height and looked around the cave they were in, seemingly properly studying it.

"I'm not sure us finding this place is a coincidence." he mumbled, approaching one of the natural walls. "Riddler must've known it was here, otherwise he had no reason to place the statue in the middle of that pond."

The three younger heroes looked around the room as well. It made sense, Morgan supposed.

"There's a.. trapdoor over here." Sparrow approached the wooden sqaure on the ground, almost entirely concealed by dust and dirt. The rush of water she had brought with her as she fell down here had washed away some of the dirt, revealing just enough of the trapdoor to identify it.

Crouching beside it, she wiped the mud away, grapping hold of the iron handle at the center of the trapdoor. Gripping it with both arms, she poured into her telekinesis, using it to strenghten her hold as she pulled at the door. It was old, maybe even centuries old, and creaked ominously as she forced it open. It must've been decades since it had been opened last.

She peered into the complete darkness below, shivering uncomfortably as an icy draft came from the hole, chilling her wet body further.

The three males had approached by now, hovering behind as she crouched in front of the opened trapdoor.

She sighed as she came to the realization that they were going down there. "Dibs on not going first." she smirked good naturedly up at her companions, the smile slipping from her face at their stony expressions.

"Let me." Batman grunted, sounding unreasonably tired as he placed a hand on her shoulder to move her aside, pulling out a flashlight to examine the place before he went down. "It's a long way down." he told them. "But there are handles we can use." Then he held onto the edge and swung himself down, disappearing from sight.

Sparrow scooted to the edge as well, waiting for only a short moment before following him down, latching onto the iron handles inserted directly into the thick brickwall. Batman was a few paces ahead of her and she followed him down, ignoring the creeking of the handles as they were used for the first time in years.

Above, she could see Robin lowering himself into the hole as well, his short legs struggling briefly before he reached the ladder as well.

Her heart lept into her throat when one of the steps gave way under her boot, Morgan losing her balance. Batman's gloved hand shot up and grasped firmly onto the side of her thigh, his thumb digging into the flesh just below the swell of her butt. His hold steadied her and she met his gaze briefly once she'd regained a foothold, nodding her thanks. He returned the nod before resuming his climb. They reached the ground a minute later, Morgan doing her best to hide her shivering. There was a permanent, cold draft down there and she was already cold from being drenched in the pond water.

Soon, all four of them stood in the new cave, each pulling out flashlights to survey the area with. Unlike the first cave, this one was obviously man-made with brickwalls and smooth stone floors. It was more of a tunnel than a cave, stretching farther to either side than their flashlights could see. It was shallow in width, and round in shape, like they were standing in a snake's belly.

Morgan walked to the curved wall, examining a rusty, ancient torch holder, old, rotting, wooden torch still in place.

"This place looks ancient." she mumbled. "It must be hundreds of years old."

"Gotham was founded in 1635." Tim offered helpfullly, and Sparrow raised an eyebrow in his direction, because _of course _Tim knew exactly how old Gotham City was. "Maybe these tunnels were built back then."

Uncertainty passed between their small group as they wondered what to do now. They'd found a really old tunnel that might lead to an entire network of them – but what where they supposed to do with this new information? Was Ivy hiding down here?

And, if so, how would they find her? They'd only just entered the tunnel and they were already unsure where to go – left or right?

Poking at the torch holder, Sparrow flinched and took a step back when the fragile object fell clean off the wall clattering loudly, echoing up and down the tunnel. Ignoring Batman's glare, she hurridly shuffled back to the others, feeling like a kid who'd touched something they shouldn't have touched.

Batman pointed his flashlight down the tunnel and then turned around, pointing it in the other direction, obviously wondering which way to go.

"So.. left or right?" Sparrow asked after a moment. "Or maybe we should split up again."

"This way," Robin indicated to their left. He started walking, gaining confused looks from the others.

"Why?"

He motioned a casual hand at the wall, drawing their attention to a sign they'd missed before.

_Eastern woods, _it read.

"Huh." Red Robin followed after the boy. Batman and Sparrow caught up to them a moment later, the four of them walking in silence for a long while. None of them could be sure that the sign was accurate, or if Poison Ivy would even be in this direction just because there happened to be a wood, but they knew it was their best bet. The Riddler was a clever guy – it was no coincidence that they'd stumpled upon this exact tunnel with that particular sign. Shortly, Morgan wondered why they hadn't simply split up as before, but in the dark, dank, creepy underground tunnel, she didn't complain. She preferred walking in a bigger group. And as much as she trusted Tim and respected his talents as Red Robin, Morgn had to admit she felt infinitely safer with Batman.

_Not that she needed protection, _of course. She could hold her own just fine – but she was cold and still a bit queasy and the tunnel was dark and scary and she was still getting used to returning to the superhero scene. And she hated being underground. And as much as they were at odds with each other right now, he'd been her mentor once, and she always felt more comfortable on a mission when it was with him – it was routine, it was recognizable, familiar.

And, again, she didn't like being underground. She felt like she couldn't breathe properly.

So she stayed close to the others, not straying more than half a step away from Batman cape. In fact, they all seemed to stick close, Robin so close to her side she could've touched his shoulder without problem. Red Robin took up the rear, though he was never more than a few feet away.

It worried her slightly – Batman and his familiy had always seemed fearless. But there was something undeniably weird about this place. The air was filled with tension. Morgan had to stop herself from holding her breath, feelig like even breathing would disturb some ancient evil. No one spoke, as if fearing their voices would carry and alert that same evil.

They were silent for a long time. Eventually, however, the creepy air seemed to dissipate. As they went on with no incident, their spirit seemed to return, and soon they fanned out slightly. The tunnels in itself was interesting – sometimes, it took a sudden, wild turn. Often, it would curve upwards only to slope down again afterwards. There were stairs a few times, and once they'd reached a huge room, spanning more than a hundred yards from they side to the other.

As their trepidation became curiosity, they looked around in interest, taking in any nook and cranny as they crossed the room, steering towards the entrance at the other side.

At some point, Red Robin slipped up next to her and nudged her shoulder slightly.

"How's your stomach feeling?" he asked. He'd spoken in a whisper, but because of the big, empty room they were in, his question echoed around them, gaining the attention of Robin and Batman.

Morgan ignored their imploring looks and turned to Tim. "It's fine." she answered shortly, though the nausea was still there.

No one said anything after that and soon they'd reached the other side of the room, slipping past the entrance to the new tunnel. It was wider than the one before and seemed to be made with more care, each brick on the round walls fitting perfectly with the ones around it.

"I wonder what was down here." Sparrow asked aloud. No one answered, but she hadn't expected them to.

A few minutes later, a loud splash was heard at the front of their small group and Morgan peered around Batman's imposing form to spot Robin standing with water up to his midcalf. There was a small step down from where they'd been walking, and the lower level was filled with water. Due to their bad lighting, Robin hadn't spotted the pool until it was too late and had walked right into it. He looked angry, seconds from pouting even, perhaps embarrassed that, for all his talk of superiority and ninja skills, he'd been the one to fall into the underground pool.

The water was as black as the shadows surrounding them, looking dead and disgusting. Morgan wondered how long it had been down there, shuddering at the thought.

They tried to edge around the pool, but soon realized they'd have to walk across it to avoid hitting a dead end. Eyeing the entrance to the new tunnel, so close yet so far away, Morgan was glad she could fly. She'd rather not touch the gross water – she was pretty sure the smell and grime would never wash out.

"See you on the other side, then." she said before taking off, landing nimbly a moment later. Turning around, she watched patiently as the guys walked slowly across. She could only imagine how slippery the bottom was, and by the way Tim stumbled once, she imagined there were stones protuding here and there.

As soon as Batman – who was leading the small group, touched upon dry land, Morgan turned and pointed her flashlight at the new tunnel.

"How far do you think we've got to go yet?"

"No idea. For all we know, this could be the completely wrong way. Or maybe we're not even supposed to be down here." Batman _helpfully_ replied.

With a sigh, Sparrow plowed ahead. "At least we'll probably be able to find our way back." she tried to find the bright side of things. "So far we haven't come across more than.. one.. tunnel.."

Cursing inwardly as she halted, eyeing the two different paths ahead, Morgan wondered if she'd jinxed them by saying that.

"Sorry guys." she said once everyone had stopped to look at the two passageways. "I totally jinxed us."

This time, there were no signs to guide them – no way of knowing which tunnel was the right one.

"We'll have to split up." Batman concluded, jabbing a batarang into the wall opposite the two entrances, probably to help them find their way back if the underground passsageways proved a dead lead. "Sparrow and I will take the one to the left. If anyone sees anything, they contact the others before engaging." he turned to look seriously at the two boys beside him. "We've got no idea if we're about to enter a maze, so be sure you have a way of finding your way back to this spot. If we haven't found anything in two hours, we meet back here."

Red Robin and Robin nodded their heads and spared them only a short glance before ducking into the new tunnel, disappearing from view a moment later as they immediately took a sharp turn to the right.

Morgan watched the spot they'd disappeared from for a short moment before jogging after Dick, who'd already walked into their own corridor.

"D'you think that's a good idea?" she asked once she'd reached his side, "Sending a sixteen and an elleven year old out on their own in this place? Shouldn't they have gone with either of us?"

"They can take care of themselves, Morgan." he responded, sounding far too casual for someone who'd just sent his younger brothers to go explore in dark, underground caves that may or may not also contain a really dangerous, plant crazy lady and other horrors. "They were trained to take care of themselves."

"No amount of training is going to change that, at their cores, they're _kids_." she reminded without any real fire behind her words. She knew Tim and Damian would be alright – it was more Dick's lack of responsibility as the big brother that bothered her. "And kids get scared sometimes."

"They've been through far worse." he said, sounding much more like Dick than Batman. There was a melancholy to his words that Morgan didn't dare pry at. Not if she wanted to avoid an argument tonight. She kept reminding herself that the last time they'd gone on a patrol together, they'd argued and she hadn't spoken to him in over a week. Treading carefully would probably be a good idea.

"Besides, the two of them need to elarnt o work together as a Team. Damian has always been hostile towards Tim. This cold be good for them." Batman added.

Morgan remembered Tim telling her how Damian had found it very difficult to accept Tim's status as Robin in the beginning. Maybe Dick was onto something by sending them off together, after all.

On they went, thankfully not hitting upon any other forks in their road. As they kept at it, Sparrow slowly realized the path they walked sloped downwards. It was a consistent decent, but subtle enough that it took her several minutes to even notice. Involuntarily, she shuddered at the realization. She didn't like being underground as it was – going further and further down didn't ease her nerves one bit. Despite being cold a moment ago, she was sweating now. They weren't walking at a particularly fast pace, but her breathing was still labored. She felt queasy again just imagining the tons and tons of earth above her. Swearing she could _hear_ the roof crumbling and letting the earth burry her, despite knowing this was not the case, she shuffled closer to Batman's side.

Morgan wished she was braver, but being underground like this set her on egde. She'd lived in a hollowed mountain with no problem, but Mount Justice had been big and light and well-aired. These tunnels were anything but, and it hit all the right spots to make her uneasy. She'd hated beign underground since she was eight. She'd gone on a cave tour with her parents and had, of course, gotten separated from the group in the dark. She'd been lost for hours before a team of cave guides found her, crying and terrified out of her mind.

The thought of that trip alone made her shuffle closer to Batman's side as she fought to keep her fear under control.

"How far down do you think we are?" she asked, taking a small step to the side as she realized how close to him she was walking.

This was ridiculous – she had no reason to be scared. She knew she could find her way abck if she got separated from Batman. She wasn't a small kid anymore. Unfortunately, much like with spiders, it was an irrational fear she could do nothing about.

"I'm not sure." Batman answered calmly, lighting their path for them with his small flashlight. Morgan was close behind him, running her flashlight over the walls of the tunnel, somehow hoping studying them made the place less intimidating.

Ten minutes later, her heart absolutely plummeted at the sight of the passageway in front of them splitting into two. They stopped by the fork, lighting down each of the new corridors, both praying for some hint at which way they should go.

There were no hints to find. No signs to read.

She could vividly imagine the Riddler sitting somewhere, sipping a glass of red wine and laughing at the thought of the four heroes running around in this stupid, underground network. Taking a deep breath through her nose, Morgan closed her eyes and forced herself to voice the inevitable fact.

"We're gonna have to split up."

There was silence for a tense moment, in which she turned to look at her companion. Batman's jaw was clenched and his body was frozen, looking like he liked the idea of splitting up even less than her.

"No we don't." he said tensely.

She frowned at him. "Dick," she spoke calmly, trying to smother her own worry "We can't risk choosing the wrong tunnel and losing Ivy."

He glared at her and the fierceness of it almost made her take a step back. If his eyes hadn't been concealed by a mask, she might have. As it were, she stood her ground and returned his look stubbornly.

"If you see _anything_," he started, sounding like he was _reprimanding_ her, "_anything at all_. You contact me immediately."

Though she felt the need to defend herself, to remind him that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself – out of the two of them, which one had flight and superpowers? - Morgan merely frowned at him and said, "I promise. You as well, though."

He stared down the tunnel entrance in front of him, nodding jerkily. "Take care." it was more than a goodbye – it was an order.

Rolling her eyes, Morgan jutted a hip out, giving in to the urge to remind him of her not-uselessness. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"Maybe," he agreed, turning his head to analyze her. "But you've been terrified since we set foot underground."

Her jaw slackened slightly, but she didn't deny it. "How-"

He took a sudden step towards her, standing close. "I _know_ you, Morgan." he said, grabbing onto her forearm and squeezing tightly. It wasn't an act of comfort, but more to make her pay extra attention to what he was saying. "I know you."

He looked like he wanted to say more, but he abruptly let go of her arm and walked down the tunnel to their left, disappearing from view in seconds.

* * *

Feathers in the Night is turns one year old today, so of course I had to celebrate my baby's birthday by posting a new chapter! I'm actually writing a one shot too, but I didn't finish it in time so I'll post that soon, at some point, hopefully.

Also, I just wanted to let you all know that I'm not dead. This story if definitely still on-going, I'm just to gosh-darn busy!

Fun fact: I JUST WANT THEM TO KISS ALREADY OMGGGGn


	20. Poisons

**Chapter Twenty: Poisons**

* * *

Morgan blinked at the spot Dick had stood in a moment ago. Then she clenching her flashlight tightly in her fist as she turned on her heel and walked down the other tunnel.

It took her over a minute to truly realize that she was completely alone now, in tunnels far under Gotham City, looking for a dangerous killer. Somehow, the whole being underground thing scared her more than looking for a villain. She'd fought with several of those before, after all.

Fifteen minutes passed when the comm in her ear crackled to life.

"Sparrow?" Batman's voice broke through. The signal was weak, most likely because they, once again, were far underground, but she could hear him well enough despite the crackling and buzzing.

Pressing a hand to her ear, she answered quickly. "Yeah?"

"I've hit a dead end. The path's completely blocked." He explained, sounding very annoyed. "I'm heading back now, so I'll meet up with you ASAP."

"Okay. I'll see you soon, then." She responded. "At one point, there's a fork in this tunnel too, but the left tunnel is a dead end, so you can skip that."

"Understood." He shortly responded and then the line grew silent.

Feeling much more at ease now that she knew he'd join her in a moment, Morgan continued on with renewed vigor. After five minutes, she saw a dim light ahead of her. She'd been pointing her flashlight at one of the walls, inspecting some old script that had been carved directly into the brick, when she'd looked and noticed the soft glow in the distance of the straight tunnel.

Frowning, Morgan shut off her own flashlight and showed it into her pouch, inching closer. Soon, soft voices echoed around her and her heartbeat sped up ever so slightly. Could this be it?

Afraid of getting spotted, she got on her knees and crawled the rest of the way, reaching the end of the tunnel a moment later. She was high up, staring down at a huge cavern. Stalactites and stalagmites littered the roof and floor of the cave. There was a small, rushing, underground river off to one side, the water white with foam as it bubbled past. Unlike the tunnels she'd been in all night, this place clearly wasn't man made. Half a dozen lanterns had been hung around, creating a weak light that didn't quite reach the corners of the place. From her spot, a stone staircase wound down, old and broken in many places.

Morgan lay flat on her belly as she peeked down, spotting the source of the voices pretty quickly.

Poison Ivy sat on her knees beside a fairly large plant, stroking its huge leaves. Behind her there was a small group of henchmen, who were talking to each other in hushed, worried tones. Their boss didn't pay much attention to them, so focused was she on the plant.

Morgan knew Poison Ivy was plant crazy – like, that was pretty much a given. Why then, she wondered, did the red haired beauty chose to stay in a dank, underground cave instead of a forest somewhere? This was completely new behavior. Well, sure, there was a plant down here, but why spend all your energy on a plant that wasn't that big, when you could have entire forests?

_Well, she's part of some supervillain group, so there must be some scheme-y reason for this. _

Morgan scooted back and sat up, out of view of the people below her, pressing a finger to her ear.

"Guys?" She whispered. Red Robin and Batman responded a moment later. She assumed Damian was with Tim. "I found her."

"Don't engage until I get there." Batman immediately ordered just as Tim said they were on their way.

Morgan briefly explained to Tim which tunnel to take, as the two boys hadn't been there when Morgan and Dick split up.

Once silence fell on their line, she approached the cavern again, keeping a close look on their opponents. She counted at least a dozen men. She drew on her hood, knowing the black fabric was much less conspicuous than her light blonde hair.

She shifted in her spot, freezing instantly when her elbow hit a rock, sending it tumbling over the side of her hiding spot. It created a racket all the way down, clattering along the floor and stopping in front of Poison Ivy's foot.

Morgan bent down low and closed her eyes, breathing deeply as she hoped they would think it was nothing. Batman would get so pissed at her if she let her presence be known before he arrived. He seemed to think she couldn't take care of herself just because she didn't like being underground. Honestly, she was no less capable of fighting just because the place freaked her out a bit.

"Go check that out." Ivy ordered and Morgan instantly scooted further back, hiding in the shadows of the dark tunnel. If nothing else, she'd have the element of surprise.

Attempting to count the footsteps approaching, she figured there must've been at least four guys. She could easily take them.

She'd counted to twenty three in her head before the small group arrived. There were five of them, so she'd been off by one. When they arrived, they were carrying a lantern to light their way, and she knew she'd have to act fast if she wanted to surprise them. Without a second thought, she leapt from the shadows, kicking the legs out from underneath the guy holding the lantern. It rolled out of his grip and she stomped on it, cracking the glass and extinguishing the small flame. Next, she kicked the man in the back of his head, just hard enough to make him lose consciousness but not enough to create any real damage. The tunnel was darker now, working to her advantage. The four other guys let out shouts of surprise, perhaps not entirely sure what had transpired. With a small smirk, she mentally applauded herself on her speed.

One of the men pulled out a flashlight, but with a high kick from Sparrow, it flew out of his grip, clattering uselessly further down the tunnel behind her. He let out a shout of surprise and pain, but Morgan reached forward and punched him in the stomach, knocking all air from his lungs before he could do anything further.

"Where is he?!" Another thug gasped, sounding like he was positively quaking in his boots.

She stifled a laugh when she realized they thought she was Batman.

Figuring she could use their fear to her advantage, she circled around them, letting her cape flutter to reinforce their false notion.

The three henchmen she had left hurdled together, perhaps hoping there was strength in numbers.

Stretching out both arms, she grabbed mental hold of two of the men, wrenching them from each other into the tunnel walls on either side. They slumped down the brick surface. There was one guy left now, and she let him dig into his pocket and retrieve a flashlight, smirking at the thought of him discovering their opponent hadn't been Batman at all.

He managed to turn it on and he found her grinning face immediately.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, his southern accent clear as a bell. "You ain't Batman"

"Nope." She shrugged, pointing behind him. "But he is."

The man turned around just in time to face Batman as he appeared from the shadows, punching him square in the face and knocking him out instantly.

"Nice of you to join." Sparrow told him, feeling herself slip into the carefree persona she was so used to from patrols. Fighting people was easy – it was familiar. Suddenly, all fears of the stuffy, underground tunnels were forgotten.

"I told you to wait for me." He gruffly disapproved.

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. "They came looking for me – couldn't very well wait for you then."

"Where's Ivy?"

Morgan stepped past a thug and towards the edge of the tunnel. She pointed down, noticing that the rest of the thugs had made a protective half-circle around their boss and her plant, most of them equipped with guns. Poison Ivy looked furious that she'd been interrupted by the heroes. Her henchmen were clearly nervous, shuffling in their place.

"She's got a plant down there. Don't know if it's dangerous, but it's probably important."

He nodded, mouth drawn into a thin line as he studied their opponent.

"I'm going to throw a smoke bomb down there." He explained. "You fly above and attack them from behind. If you can, incapacitate Ivy before you engage her men. I'll attack them head on."

Sparrow mentally visualized his plan and nodded a second later.

He studied the place one more time. "I think I see a way out up there." Batman pointed at a ladder leading up to a trapdoor exactly like the one they'd used to enter the underground tunnels. "Once we've got Ivy, we'll get out that way."

Fine by her. She'd go along with anything that meant no more tunnel-exploring. If it was indeed a way out, it meant they wouldn't have to go all the way back, with a dangerous criminal in their custody.

He pulled out a smoke bomb and looked at her. "One.. two.. _three!"_

He threw the sphere and it exploded, grey smoke covering the cave in an instant.

Morgan jumped off the edge, beating her wings to reach the other side. She was above the smoke, allowing her to briefly see the flutter of a black cape before the sounds of battle reached her, guns going off and ricocheting off the cave walls. Flesh hit flesh and there were several pained grunts. She reached the other side and dropped to the floor, momentarily disoriented as she was surrounded by smoke. Her mask worked in the smoke too, thankfully letting her see the vague shapes of the people she was supposed to be fighting.

A shape collided with her with enough force to send them both sprawling, Sparrow felt all air leave her lungs when the other figured landed harshly on top of her.

Poison Ivy's face appeared a second later, swooping down towards Sparrow's. She quickly halted the other woman with an arm to her collarbone, realizing with wry humor that Poison Ivy could barely see anything, and had tried to kiss her. Morgan had heard about Ivy's poisonous kiss, but she was pretty sure the other woman only ever used it on men.

"This is awkward." she spoke, watching Ivy's face slacken in surprise at her feminine voice. "Does that trick even work on women?"

Ivy let out a growl and got to her feet. Before she could run off, Morgan caught her around her ankle and pulled, sending the other woman to the ground again. The ground was damp and Ivy landed in a small puddle of mud. Sparrow instinctively grimaced, knowing she was probably just as dirty herself.

Pushing thoughts of dirt aside, Morgan quickly got up and sat on top of the other woman, holding onto her wrists with one hand as she dug through her pouches in search of a pair of handcuffs.

Ivy wriggled her hands free before Sparrow could restrain her for good, moving with a speed that surpassed Morgan's as she lashed out and hit her on the side of her head, making her slacken the grip her thighs had around Ivy's waist.

Both women scrambled to their feet and eyed each other for a moment. Sparrow touched a hand to her temple where Ivy had hit her, frowning at the blood slowly oozing from the scratch marks there.

Ignoring the stinging, she ran forward and jumped, aiming a punch at Ivy's side. She dodged, but before she could attack, Morgan grabbed mental hold of her and kept her in place as she leapt up and kicked Ivy at the side of her head. The older woman slackened, falling to the ground once Morgan released her from her hold.

Despite the pretty short fight, Morgan's breathing was labored as she approached the unconscious form of the ginger before her. She blinked to rid her vision of colorful spots and somewhat sluggishly pulled out the handcuffs.

She had intended to carefully reach down to handcuff the woman, but her legs seemed to have other ideas as she fell harshly on her knees instead. She handcuffed Ivy even as her head started spinning, and it took a moment for her drowsy brain to realize what was going on.

Ivy had poisoned her. It must've been when she scratched her.

"Son of a bitch.." She mumbled before slumping to the side, lying parallel to Poison Ivy, and her head inches from the woman's feet. Blond curls covered her eyes as her vision slowly darkened. Blinking twice, her eyes lost their fight against the sudden drowsiness and slipped shut.

–

Getting rid of the henchmen had been fairly easy, especially when Red Robin and Robin appeared. Except, of course, when one of them went crazy, pulled out a machine gun, and started firing every-freaking-where. That guy had been approached with caution, and he'd kept Batman so occupied, he'd briefly forgotten about their main prize: Poison Ivy.

Then, as the smoke cleared, silence settled around them. All the henchmen were in various stages of unconsciousness so he spared them only the smallest of glances before looking around to spot Poison Ivy, hoping Morgan had been successful in apprehending the other female.

The last bit of smoke covered the ground, so he spotted a still, grey wing sticking up first, and quickly walked towards it. As he came closer, he could see both Morgan and Ivy lying on their sides, neither moving a muscle, and he quickened his pace. His eyes latched onto Morgan and stayed there as he quickly slid onto his knees beside her and rolled her onto her back, making sure her wings weren't bent uncomfortably. Pressing two fingers to her throat, he was relieved to feel her pulse, and upon further study, he could see her face twitch, her eyebrows furrowing and her closed, masked eyes darting back and forth.

He grasped her face in both hands and tilted it to inspect three new scratches on her temple, thin streams of blood seeping into her hairline. He approached Ivy next and inspected both of her hands, finding traces of blood and skin under the nails of her left one, and knew that she must've scratched Morgan, poisoning her in the process. He pulled forth a device from his belt and cut off a small sliver of the woman's long nails, analyzing what sort of poison she'd used. Part of him worried, but he squashed it down, knowing that Bruce had prepared for this sort of thing. He could only hope he had the antidote with him.

Not thirty seconds later, the computer informed him it was a fast working, powerful sedative. So she hadn't as much poisoned Morgan as she'd put her to sleep. It was pretty harmless if he treated it – however, he couldn't be sure when she'd wake up if he didn't give her an antidote. Or if she'd even wake up.

Knowing what was wrong with the other hero calmed his worry and he dug into one of his pouches as Red Robin and Robin approached. The two boys had been tying up the henchmen but had finished their task and now demanded to know what had happened to Sparrow and Poison Ivy.

"Ivy poisoned her." He responded calmly as he dug out a small vial and a clean syringe. "Don't worry, I've got the antidote. Batman-" he swallowed dryly at the mention of his old mentor, "he made sure long ago that he had an antidote for any poison that Ivy used."

"I thought the only cure was a kiss from Ivy?" Red Robin demanded, seeming worried that Dick would give Morgan the wrong antidote and thus worsen her situation.

"Only if she was poisoned through a kiss." He explained as he cleaned the syringe and plunged the needle into the seal of the vial, filling it with the antidote. "But Ivy poisoned her with these," he motioned for the scratch marks before moving Morgan's head to one side, giving him unhindered access to her neck. Finding a vein, he pushed in the syringe and released the antidote into her system.

Right as he pulled the needle back out, Ivy shuffled beside Morgan, bringing a hand up to hold onto her head, letting out a low moan of pain. Seeing the red lump on her temple, Batman suspected Morgan had knocked the other woman unconscious before succumbing to the sedative.

He saw she was restrained by handcuffs, and so he didn't hurry as he stood and loomed over the waking woman, waiting patiently for her to notice him.

Turning onto her back and letting her bound hands fall from her temple, she opened her eyes and finally spotted his form. Automatically, she glared at him and sat up, pulling fruitlessly at her handcuffs.

"You got me this time." She said as Red Robin reached forward and pulled her onto her feet, keeping a tight grip on her upper arm to keep her in place. "But it won't matter. You won't win this one, _Nightwing." _

He crossed his arms at her sneer, ignoring the discomfort he felt at hearing his old title. Whether because it bugged him that she knew he wasn't the real Batman or because he missed being Nightwing and hated the reminder, he wasn't sure.

"You were there the night it happened." He said in a monotone. "Who else was?"

She winked at him, a coy smile pulling at her lips. "Who says I wasn't alone?"

"I want names, Ivy."

"Well, you're not getting them." She rolled her eyes at him as if figuring he should've known that already. "You're not at scary as you think you look, boy."

Robin glared beside Batman. Despite his short stature, he somehow managed to look down his nose at Ivy. "Looking intimidating isn't the only way to get you to talk." He threatened, his intention clear as he clenched a batarang in his small fist. Batman placed a restraining hand on Robin's shoulder.

A low groan redirected their attention as Morgan blinked awake by their feet. She let out a large breath and blinked an extra time before getting up onto one elbow, clutching her head.

"I guess you had the antidote, then." Poison Ivy sighed like it was a real shame. "Too bad. I had looked forward to seeing the desperation on your face."

Batman looked sharply at her. "A bit of sedative is hardly cause for desperation."

She smirked at him. "Depends on the doze."

As they talked, Morgan slowly sat up fully, shaking her heavy limbs.

"That was bizarre.." She mumbled, rubbing at her eyes through her mask.

Batman offered her a hand and pulled her up. He studied Ivy out of the corner of his eye, watching as she glared at the blonde. He frowned at the look. It seemed like it held more than just general animosity against an enemy who'd bested and handcuffed her.

"What's bizarre?" Red Robin asked.

"Nothing," She rubbed at the area of her neck he'd jabbed the needle into, grimace at the discomfort she must've felt. "Just a dream. More like nightmare, really."

She was tired, still. He could see it on her, her wings hanging lazily against her back as she slumped where she stood. Turning towards Ivy, he scowled at her one final time before reaching a decision.

"We're done here." He said. "We'll escort Ivy outside and hand her over to Arkham."

Robin, who'd been standing silently by his side all this time, protested. "There's more she can tell us. Letting her go already would be the wrong thing to do."

He shook his head, suddenly weary to the bone. "She won't tell us anything. Whoever she's working with, she fears them more than us."

Ivy looked like she wanted to protest the notion of being afraid of anyone, but he ignored her as he ordered Robin to use the ladder and check out that trapdoor, see if it really led out of the tunnels. The young boy nodded stiffly before aiming one last glare at Ivy and walking off.

As soon as the trapdoor turned out to lead straight to the surface, Batman and Red Robin got Ivy out, letting Sparrow and Robin wait by the plant they had yet to inspect. The police arrived ten minutes later, taking over Ivy with the promise to let Batman interrogate her later – he wasn't about to let her go that easily, not when she could have more to tell him. Maybe she wasn't scared of him, but he could probably find some other way to persuade the answers from her. He'd prefer to terminate his reluctant partnership with the Riddler as soon as possible, and getting the information from Ivy could do just that. As the police car disappeared around the corner, the two heroes slipped under ground once again, seeing Sparrow and Robin eye the plant from a small distance.

"What do you suppose it does?" Batman heard Morgan ask quietly as she reached out a hand.

"Don't touch it." He practically barked and she withdrew her hand, taking a step back.

"I wasn't gonna.." She protested weakly. Kicking at a rock by her feet, she looked positively sheepish.

Batman approached the plant and pulled out a batarang, cutting off a large piece, making sure he got a sample of the leaves, the trunk and the roots. If the plant had some sort of function, they couldn't be sure which part. Taking a step back, he studied it briefly. It was a dark green, not particularly big yet, with large, fuzzy leaves. There were no signs of flowers blooming, so he assumed it was a flowerless sort.

"Hey, how come _you_ get to touch it?" Sparrow asked as he stuffed the samples into a sealed bag and tugged it into his belt.

"My gloves aren't fingerless." He responded simply, not looking up as he rigged a small explosive to the plant. If it held some sort of significance, they couldn't very well let it lie around for Ivy's partners to find. "Step back."

The four heroes headed for the other side of the room before he pressed a button to set off the explosive.

He'd only used a minimal amount of explosive gel, and so he wasn't at all prepared for the entire plant to implode in a loud roar of fire, the shockwave sending all four of them to the ground. The entire cave shook and rocks broke loose from the ceiling and walls, stirring up dust as they went.

There was silence for a moment as the four heroes regained their bearings and slowly got to their feet.

"What was _that?_" Tim demanded, turning to Dick.

Batman ignored him as he approached the charred remains of the plant. Kicking lightly at it with a black boot, it crumbled under the hit, nothing but a small pile of ash.

"I barely used any explosive." He told the others. "It shouldn't have gone off like this."

"Maybe it was rigged already. In case Ivy lost it. It could've been made to self destruct." Robin offered, his brows furrowed behind his green mask. The eleven year old bent down and pinched a bit of ash between his thumb and pointer, sniffing suspiciously at it. Coughing, he closed his eyes and turned away, his face scrunched up. "It stings!"

"Did you inhale it?" Morgan stepped forward and bent down next to the boy, placing a hand on his small shoulder. He glared at her and stood up, brushing her hand away in annoyance as he wiped his glove on his pants.

"I'm fine. Don't touch me." Damian snapped.

Batman almost felt like rolling his eyes, not entirely sure what Morgan had expected to happen if she tried to mother Damian in any way.

Morgan huffed in offence and drew back, holding her hands up in the universal 'whatever' move.

"Fine." She said flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. "let's just finish up here and go home – I'm sick of this place."

* * *

Wow, I feel like I've been away from this story for forever! Hopefully I'll never go this far between chapters again. I can't promsie anything yet, though - I've still got University to look after!

This chapter was slightly shorter than usual, but it means I have more for the next chapter, so hpefully it'll be out soon.

Also, for those of you that haven't seen it yet, I posted the first part of a short story called 'The Alternative', which basically outlines the reality that Impulse came from and then hinted at in Feathers. We get to see Morgan and Dick in a sort-of dystopian world, so go read it! I'm working on the second part as we speak, so hopefully that'll be posted soon too.

In the meantime, stay awesome! You guys are the best!


	21. Sickness

**Chapter Twenty one: Sickness**

* * *

Batman quickly collected a sample of the ash and the four of them were on they way. Briefly, the four heroes discussed whether they should retrace their steps down in the tunnel or just go to the surface and locate their vehicles from there. In the end – to Morgan's relief, Dick was sure – they decided to go to the surface and travel that way.

As soon as they set foot above ground, Morgan spread her massive wingspan and took to the air, leaving the three males behind. After flying straight up, doing a couple of summersaults and then gliding in a curve towards the ground, she landed again, stretching her body with content.

"I really needed that." She sighed, her wings fluttering happily before folding against her back again. Dick saw that the tip of her wings rested only an inch above ground, and he was once again marveling at how large they'd gotten.

"Anyways, we're only a mile or two away from the park. That way." She pointed down the street, proving that her little flight hadn't just been for her own enjoyment, but also to orientate.

Batman, not necessarily because he didn't trust her, but because he liked to know himself, checked the digital map in his wrist computer.

The four heroes took to the rooftops, the three males using their grapple guns to swing from roof to roof as Morgan flew a little ways ahead. When they'd almost reached their goal, Morgan suddenly picked up speed and disappeared into the dark canopy of trees ahead. Batman and Red robin exchanged a glance, but didn't slow down. Five minutes later, the three men arrived at the vehicles, but there was still no sign of Sparrow.

"Do you think she saw something?" Red Robin suggested.

Batman shrugged, ignoring the sour look from Damian as he suggested they just leave her behind since she saw fit to do the same to them – Dick suspected the kid was annoyed that she was faster than them because of her wings – "I think she would've told us so."

Just then, Sparrow arrived, jogging up to them, looking pale and out of breath.

"Sorry, guys." She wiped damp hair out of her eyes as she slowed to a halt in front of them. "I just got really nauseous all of a sudden."

"Again?" Red Robin said.

Dick looked first at Morgan and then at Tim, wondering when this had happened the first time, but ultimately decided not to comment on it.

"It's fine." He said instead. He motioned for Robin to follow and the two of them got into the Batmobile. "We'll so you two back at the cave."

Speeding down the road, Batman cast a quick look towards Damian, noticing that the young boy seemed paler than usual. Once again, he decided not to comment, figuring it would only earn him a sneer and hostile silence.

By the time they reached the cave, however, Damian looked downright sick, his dark hair damp against his sweaty forehead and a visible shake in his hands.

"Damian, are you alright?" Dick asked as he turned off the engine and exited the car.

"I'm fine." The boy practically growled, but as he jumped out of the batmobile, his legs gave out and he landed harshly on his knees.

Dick felt a spike of worry flare up in him as he nimbly leapt across the front of the batmobile to reach the boy. "Damian!" he demanded, hauling the boy onto his feet by his shoulders, pulling the mask from his face so he could see it better.

Damian's eyes were unfocused, but when Dick gave him a light shake, they trained onto him. He then proceeded to drop Damian in shock when the young boy's eyes widened, pupils dilated with fear, his mouth opening to release a shriek of terror.

Dick jumped back in surprise, sure he had never heard a sound like that from Damian before. Damian's breathing was already heavy and his eyes darted around the cave as he clawed at his throat with gloved hands. Shock made Batman pause for a moment before his training kicked in and he leapt forward to restrain the boy before he could do any serious damage to himself.

Just then, Tim and Morgan arrived, both abandoning the motorcycle at the entrance of the cave as they saw what was transpiring inside.

"What's going on?" Tim demanded sharply as he drew up beside Dick, Morgan sharp on his heels.

"I'm not sure," Dick kept his voice level even though Damian's cries nearly drowned it out. "He just flipped out the second we came back."

His eyes found Morgan for a second, her eyes wide as she looked at the boy before her in fear and worry.

Robin wriggled himself out of Batman's grasp and delivered a solid kick to his face. Dick let out a grunt and took a stumbling step back, tasting blood. The young boy didn't waste a second before he bolted, Red Robin letting out a shout and chasing after him, determined to stop Damian before he ran off.

The change in her posture was subtle, but Morgan took a step forward, her back ramrod straight, one foot placed solidly in front of the other as she shot her hands forward. The effect was immediate, as it looked like the young boy ran into an invisible wall, his movements halted, body frozen in mid-step. Batman let his hand drop from his aching jaw, watching in dumbfounded surprise as Damian floated back to them, following the gentle tugging of Morgan's raised hands.

He knew she'd gotten better at controlling her telekinesis, but he'd never imagined..

"Someone better find something to knock him out with before I lose my grip." She ground out behind gritted teeth, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Tim dug into his utility belt, withdrawing a syringe he proceeded to stab into the spot between Damian's neck and shoulder. The young boy's screams faded as he went limp – as limp as Morgan's tight grip on his body allowed.

She walked over to him and let him drop slowly into her waiting arms, crouching to place him on the floor. Dick approached as she stood again, the three heroes looking at each other in bewilderment. The silence was ringing after Damian's loud outburst. The quiet was pierced a moment later as rapid footsteps came from the entrance to the manor. Alfred, looking less put together than usual as he hurried down the stairs, appeared with worried eyes.

"What happened to Master Damian?" He practically demanded.

Tim looked at Dick. "Fear toxin?" He suggested.

Dick nodded thoughtfully, having reached the same conclusion himself.

"Fear toxin?" Morgan frowned at them. "But we've been nowhere near Scarecrow all night."

"It's the only logical solution." Dick bent down to pick Damian's unconscious body off the floor, moving him to the medical cot a level above them, Tim and Morgan right at his heels. They all felt a certain level of anxiousness over what had just transpired. Even though Damian could be a right pain in the ass, he was still the youngest and Dick's responsibility, especially when they were on patrol.

"But how?" Tim wondered as Dick took a blood sample from Damian. He ran the sample through the computer, tapping his foot impatiently during the thirty seconds it took for the computer to yield a result. He knew the computer in the Batcave was incredibly fast and he probably shouldn't have been so impatient, but seeing the limp boy on the table, when he'd been screaming bloody murder just a minute ago, worried him.

"The computer should be able to tell us." He answered, his eyes fixed on the screen, his arms crossed over his chest.

The thirty seconds neared their end and the scan confirmed their suspicion: fear toxin.

Dick didn't waste time as he strode over and gave Damian the antidote via a syringe to the neck. The all the needles he'd been poked with tonight, the young boy would be sore when he woke up.

"How strong was the sedative?" Dick asked.

"He should wake up in less than ten minutes." Tim assured him. The computer emitted a small beep and Tim strode to it, reading the small text that had appeared. "It says the toxin entered his body as a powder. Probably inhaled it."

Dick raised an eyebrow – they hadn't dealt with the fear toxin in any other form but as a gas for a long time now.

"The plant!" Morgan exclaimed loudly. She'd been silent for a while now and both men had almost forgotten she was there. "He inhaled some of the ashes from the plant!"

"You think Ivy and Scarecrow worked together to somehow create a plant that can infect people with his toxin?" Tim asked, but as he looked at Dick it was obvious he expected his opinion.

Dick studied the unconscious boy with crossed arms, his fingers tapping his opposite bicep. "It's possible – probable. We can't know for sure until we've analyzed the plant samples." He dug out the samples and went to work setting up the numerous scans they'd need to cover their bases. Hopefully at least one of the tests would yield a result. He knew it would take the computer some more time to analyze the plant samples, so he felt himself slip out of his Batman mentality as the night neared its end. All they needed now was for Damian to wake up.

And roughly three minutes later, he did. The young boy blinked before groggily sitting up, looking around the cave with a straight face as he obviously did his best to hide whatever emotion he was feeling. At least he wasn't screaming anymore. His green eyes focused on Dick.

"You were poisoned with fear toxin and we had to sedate you." He answered Damian's silent question. "But you should be fine now. Go and sleep it off."

Damian recognized the last part for what it was – an order. And so he slipped off the cot without a word and dragged his tired body out of the cave. Dick sent a look Tim's way and the teenager followed after his younger brother to make sure the stubborn boy didn't fall over on his way to his room.

"Well, that went okay, I think." Morgan said with false brightness in her tone. Dick ignored her, not entirely annoyed, but also not entirely in the mood for their dance. She shrugged when she guessed she wouldn't get a response from him and made to leave the cave too.

"Morgan," he stopped her in her tracks. Just because he didn't feel like responding to her awkward banter didn't mean he was quite finished with her yet.

She turned on her heel to face him again, her lips thin as she sucked them into her mouth. "Yup?"

"From tomorrow afternoon, you're starting training again."

She frowned and took a step closer. "What? Why?"

"You're getting sloppy." He elaborated.

"Ugh," she rolled her eyes, "Okay, just because I got knocked out by Ivy that one time doesn't mean I'm getting _sloppy._ I've managed just fine for months now."

"You've managed just fine against common _thugs_ and _thieves_." He responded sharply. "But we're not fighting against mediocre criminals anymore. This is the big league – and if you let yourself get knocked out in single combat with _Poison Ivy_, then you're not ready at all. So." He finally turned to her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Four, tomorrow afternoon – meet me in the gym."

He held in a smirk at her glare and angrily flushed cheeks. Her fists clenched and unclenched before she let out a loud, frustrated sigh and threw her hands up in surrender.

"Okay, whatever." She rolled her eyes. "Whatever gives you peace of mind. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go vomit."

Then she turned on her heel and was gone from the cave in a matter of seconds.

Dick only stayed long enough to slip out of his suit before he followed the rest of them. He was asleep in his room ten minutes later.

August 11th

_Thump! _

"Urgh!"

_Thud!_

"Get up."

"This is so not fair! You're not allowing me to use the _only _advantage I have!"

"If you rely so heavily on your telekinesis you can't even block a basic attack, then you're only setting yourself up for getting seriously hurt at some point."

"I _don't _rely that heavily on it. I'm just not at my best right now-"

"You can't afford to not be on your best. And stop making excuses." Dick rolled his eyes and got into a crouch again. "Now get up. Your opponents aren't going to care about you not getting to use your only advantage against them, and they're not going to let you rest on the floor for several seconds before attacking again."

Morgan glared at him from the floor before wiping sweat from her brow. They hadn't even been at it for that long and she was already sweating like a pig. How embarrassing. He was being totally unfair. And her wings were heavy and annoying to work with while she fought.

As she got off the floor, she realized that, if her own wings were a liability, perhaps she needed these lessons more than she was willing to admit.

It frustrated her that he could still beat her as effortlessly as the day they first faced each other in the training ring almost three years ago. Morgan studied his ready form, his unflinching eyes as he waited for her to make a move. She knew he could read her body language like a book – he always knew exactly where and when she was going to strike. It was a talent she'd quickly learned he had. That ability to anticipate his opponents move before they struck made him a formidable fighter and a frustratingly impossible sparring partner. It was a trait she'd always admired and been envious of, but now, in light of her stubborn need to prove that she wasn't as bad as he claimed, it annoyed her more than anything else.

She frowned and squared her shoulders before slipping into the fighting stance that had been the first thing he'd taught her. It was as natural as anything else, as easy as breathing. Now she just needed to use that stance and all the other things he'd taught her to beat him.

Morgan took a long step forward and jabbed at his shoulder, but Dick effortlessly caught her forearm and kicked her legs out from under her, sending her on her back. As her lower back connected with the floor, she mentally thanked the training mats for saving her from a new set of bruises. Her wings stopped the rest of her fall and she flinched, knowing they would be beyond sore by this time tomorrow.

"Get up."

His commanding tone annoyed her and with a huff, she got off the floor, taking a few leaping backward steps to get away from him. This time, she'd wait until _he_ attacked her, which she signaled by crouching into a defensive position and raising her hands protectively.

This so wasn't fair. She'd gone to lots of martial arts and hand-to-hand combat lessons in Denmark, and he still managed to beat her.

Then again, she mussed with reluctant admittance, none of her teacher had been even close to being as good as Dick. The only person she guessed could best him in hand to hand combat was Batman, and he was dead. She figured Tim or Damian would be able to defeat him one day, but right now Dick was older, stronger and had over a decade of experience. She'd seen him take down so many team mates with superpowers, even though he was only human. He didn't get to have any advantages – all he had was his hard earned skill and superior intelligence. With a huff of annoyance, Morgan began to understand why he insisted that she fight without using her powers. They made her lazy – he was right to warn her off of being too dependent on them. She had to admit that he had probably been the best teacher she could've gotten. Despite being a normal human, he was one of the best and most respected amongst a large group of superpowered _gods. _And he deserved the spot, but he'd had to work hard every day to get it. If there was anyone who could teach her to work hard and make the best of her situation, he was probably it. So she'd stop being annoyed. Maybe she'd even be grateful that he was willing to teach her again.

Dick jumped at her suddenly with speed she hadn't been prepared for in the slightest and she scrambled to deflect his attack just barely. However, her poor defense left her without balance and even though she'd succeeded in stopping his first jab, she wasn't ready for the second one.

Blinking up at the ceiling from her position on the floor, Morgan decided she was starting to hate the stupid thing. It was an ugly color and she was sick of looking at it.

And okay, she lied. She was still annoyed with him even though she knew she ought to be grateful. He could've been a bit more courteous about it instead of basically telling her that she sucked and then demand that she show up so he could throw her around for an hour or two.

Also, she wasn't feeling well. She'd been throwing up all morning and some of the afternoon. She felt uncomfortably hot and dizzy, the nausea ruining her appetite. Not that it mattered – even if she _could _eat, she'd just throw it up again. Her bones and muscles had been sore all day, and she was pretty sure this fighting wasn't helping much. But she was also pretty sure he wouldn't listen if she voiced any of this. So instead, she got up and sunk into her crouch again.

Dick charged for her, but right then, she felt her slight control over her gag reflex disappear and she instinctually held a hand out, halting his body in mid step. He glared sharply at her.

"Let me go, Morgan." He demanded.

"I'm sorry!" She gasped, trying to hold in all the fluids that her stomach was trying to release. "I just need a moment."

She released his body and bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she drew in deep breaths.

_Get it together. Control your body. _

_.._

_Nope, it's not working._

With a shuddering groan, she ran for the trashcan in the corner of the room and threw up in it, letting herself onto her knees when her legs started shaking so bad she was sure they'd give out anyway.

She felt Dick's presence behind her a moment later and knew he was standing there, unsure what to do. For a short selfish and self-indulgent moment, she bitterly wished he'd place a hand on her back and soothe her. Hold her hair back as she emptied her stomach. Murmur comforting words in her ear. She pushed the want away and closed her eyes as tears sprang forth, not caring to analyze if they were a result of her vomiting or her treacherous thoughts.

He hovered silently by her side until she finished. Morgan stayed on the floor, supporting her burning forehead on her arm against the wall. She sniffled, groaning inwardly over her stuffy nose. Powerful tremors shook her body periodically and her face twitched in disgust when the sickly sweet smell of her vomit reached her. It made her want to hurl all over again, and the thought that Dick bore witness to the whole, humiliating thing made her want to cry more.

Swearing at herself, Morgan wondered when she'd become such an emotional wreck.

She heard Dick shuffle uncertainly by her side still, but as her eyes were closed, she couldn't see him.

"Just-" she sucked in a deep breath, annoyed that she was so out of breath. She shifted so she was slumped with her back against the wall, leaning her head back and squeezing her eyelids together to block out the harsh light. "just give me a second.. I just need a minute to rest and we can continue.."

There was silence for a moment. Then, a cool hand pressed to her forehead and Morgan jumped in surprise, but didn't open her eyes. It felt good against her burning skin and she had to stop herself from letting out a breath of relief.

"Morgan, you have a fever."

A fever? She figured that explained a few things. Like why she'd been feeling like crap for a few days now.

"Are you sure?" she let out in a large breath, wishing she'd stop being so out of breath already. She felt icky all over. Her skin was overly hot in some places and freezing in others and sweat coated her body. Another tremor shot through her.

"Pretty damn sure." Maybe it was the fever that muddled her brain, but she had a hard time deciphering his tone. She opened her eyes, hoping to gauge his facial expression for clarity, but it didn't help much. His face was blank, his eyes focused. As usual.

"I suppose that makes sense." She sighed, closing her eyes again. The light was too damn bright. It was giving her a headache.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He demanded, sounding frustrating as he scolded her. That emotion she could decipher, at least. It seemed like the emotion he currently did best. The frustrating scold.

Morgan shrugged, focusing on keeping her teeth from clattering as the heat seemed to seep out of her body and she was suddenly freezing.

She heard him sigh. "C'mon." he murmured before gathering her in his arms and lifting her off the floor. Unbidden, she felt herself snuggle into his warm chest, goosebumps appearing all over her body when his warmth collided with her chilled body.

_Just this once.. enjoy it._

He carried her to her room and laid her on her bed, throwing several covers over her. Somehow, she felt drowsy already and so she clasped onto the covers and snuggled deeper into them, letting out a sigh of brief relief.

She heard him move around her room and peaked at him through one eyes to see him disappearing into her bathroom. He came back out a minute later, bringing with him a thermometer she hadn't even known was in there. Though, she knew she probably should've expected Alfred to stock all of their rooms with stuff like that.

She accepted the stick in her mouth, closing her eyes again. Somehow, it just seemed less complicated than making eye contact with him right now.

He removed it a moment later, sighing when he saw the result. "One hundred and one Fahrenheit.."

So, yeah, definitely a fever. But not a particularly bad one yet.

"Could be worse." She blinked at him with the one eye that wasn't buried in her pillow.

"Could be a lot better too." He placed the thermometer on her bedside table before standing up. "Stay there." He said, sounding oddly tired. "I'll get Alfred to check up on you and cook you something warm."

Morgan nodded minimally, figuring her response didn't really matter. She felt tired and worn. All day, she'd fought to ignore how bad she actually felt, but it was as if her throwing up in front of Dick and then him mentioning the word 'fever' had broken the dam, allowing her to really feel the sickness creeping in. Closing her eyes and sighing deeply, Morgan shifted so she lay completely straight on her back, trying to ease her nausea. She heard her door slip shut a moment later and knew he had left. Her thoughts muddled a few moments later.

Morgan didn't wake up again until Alfred came to her room a few hours later with a hot bowl of tomato soup and a pack of Tylenol. He checked her temperature again, noting with concern that it hadn't gone down – quite the opposite. With that sort of British insistence that was somehow both exceedingly polite but also totally rude, Alfred made her eat at least half of the soup. Even though Morgan protested, knowing she wouldn't be able to keep the food in her stomach, he said she wouldn't get any painkillers until she had food in her stomach. The promise of the Tylenol made her suffer through the bit of food. Once he seemed satisfied with what she'd eaten, he gave her two painkillers and left her to sleep.

And sleep she did. Well, she tried. She felt like she woke up at least once every ten minutes, either because it was too damn hot under all those blankets, or because it was too damn cold under all those blanket. Sometimes, she woke because she was sure she was about to throw up, but every time, she managed to hold it in, determined to not cough up the tomato soup – she'd suffered through the horror of that soup once already, she didn't want to revisit it.

Once, she was pretty sure she woke up just enough to see Tim checking up on her by her door. She figured he must've come home from school or wherever else he'd been all day.

She hated this. This weird halfway conscious state she found herself in. she wasn't sure when she as asleep and when she was awake, when dreams and reality mingled.

She was pretty sure it was late into the evening when she woke up fully with a start, knowing she had to throw up – _now._

Fumbling to free herself from the mountain of blankets she'd buried herself in, she stumbled across her room and into the bathroom, wrenching the toilet open just in time.

Now that she was up and bout, the weight of her sickness hit her full-force and her whole body shook as she prayed for her knees to not give out. The bathroom felt freezing, but she was pretty sure that was just her fever. Her entire body ached, small needles prickling all over her skin.

Two minutes later, she groaned in pain and discomfort as she blinked blearily at the gross, red _something _mingling with the toilet water.

She was never having tomato soup again.

Reaching up to flush it out before the smell made her throw up again, she pushed herself away from the toilet and sat down against the doorframe, breathing heavily. The light was too bright and she closed her eyes, just focusing on her breathing for a while. Her body shook with overexertion and fever, and even though all she wanted was to wash her mouth and hands and then return to her bed, she couldn't quite muster up the will power to get off the floor.

Maybe if she just sat here for a little bit.. just rested for a moment..

Her thoughts muddled for a moment and Morgan realized that she was falling asleep right there on the floor.

Groaning loudly, she forced herself to get up, leaning against the sink as she washed her hands and brushed her teeth.

It was on her way back to her bed that Tim knocked on the door and poked his head in.

"What are you doing up?" He sounded too stern for a sixteen year old, and Morgan wanted to tell him to lighten up.

Instead, she answered his question. "Vomiting."

"Oh."

She reached her bed and cursed the covers for suddenly being so heavy. In the end, she managed to burry herself in their heat again and she shivered from the mixed cold and warmth.

"How's Damian?" She asked, the sight of Alfred the Cat walking through the door and jumping onto her bed reminded her of the kid.

"He's okay. Recovered nicely form the toxin."

"And the computer finished its analysis?"

"Yeah. You were right – it was the ash he inhaled from the plant. The weird thing is that the plant itself doesn't seem to be toxic, only the ash." Tim sounded tired, like that was another mystery he cold do without having to solve. "Alfred says you have a fever." He said instead, redirecting the conversation.

"I also have a headache." _And you're not helping. _

He smirked slightly at her annoyed tone, clearly guessing her thoughts. "Sorry. I'll leave you to sleep."

She appreciated that he'd come to check on her and answered her questions, but now she really just wanted to be left alone.

"Please tell Alfred to never-ever cook me tomato soup again." She sighed tiredly, feeling consciousness slip from her grasp once again.

Tim mock saluted her even though her eyes were closed before slipping from the room.

Morgan was asleep two minutes later.

* * *

WOW IS THIS REAL? DID JOSEPHINE ACTUALLY POST A NEW CHAPTER WITHOUT LETTING EVERYONE WAIT TWO MONTHS FOR IT?

YES I DID

I'm being generous bc its my birthday today. Also, this new chapter practically wrote itself and I finished it a week ago so I figured I might as well. Poor Morgan, huh? I've only had a fever twice in my life, but I remember it being awful.

Also, I'm not used to fahrenheit, so if i screw it up plz be nice. I'm not american, I'm European and I. DO NOT. GET. FAHRENHEIT.

Fun fact: I forgot the fun fact last chapter. whoops. Also, I turn twenty today, so I'm no longer a teenager. Shit. I don't feel grown up-y at all.


	22. At the Doctor's Office

**Chapter Twenty two: At the Doctor's Office**

* * *

August 13th

He was worried. But only slightly. Like, just a tiny bit worried. It was natural. When other people got sick and then didn't get better, you got worried.

Especially when their fever seemed to get worse every day. He was totally allowed to worry, okay?

Alfred said he'd take her to the doctor tomorrow if her fever hadn't died down by then. Her temperature was too high and it didn't seem to be falling, only steadily rising.

Dick blinked at the papers in front of him, trying to actually read the graph in an attempt to feel even slightly useful. He needed some reason to justify him being at this stupid meeting. He knew, as the heir of the company, he was required to be there, to at least have a bit of any idea about how things were going, but right now, he felt like he couldn't be bothered. He couldn't really concentrate.

Not when he was worried.

Which he seemed to be a lot recently.

"Mister Grayson?"

Dick looked up from the trade surplus graph he'd been staring at for the past few minutes. Lucius Fox gave him the sort of stern yet I-know-this-is-difficult-for-you look that the older man seemed to have perfected in the months Dick had been at the company.

"I'm sorry?" Dick said despite knowing that admitting his failure to pay attention wouldn't help him stay in the good graces of the board. Lucius smiled slightly and repeated whatever he'd just said.

They already doubted his ability to co-run this company – hopefully mainly because of his age – he didn't need them to start doubting him for real. Not that he thought he was necessarily doing a bad job at this. He was just distracted right now. Worried.

Oh, right, Lucius was saying something.

He zoned in again just at the end, managing to get enough out of the conversation to sort of know what Lucius was talking about. Something about a European plane manufacture wanting to seal a deal for some Wayne tech. The owner wanted a meeting with Dick and Lucius.

As Lucius finished his question, the entire board looked at Dick – not that most of them hadn't been already – obviously waiting for some reason to _pounce._ He felt like a gazelle at a lion family's yearly get-together.

Clearing his throat, Dick leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. "Very well," he said, a phrase he loved because it always gave him a few extra seconds to figure out what to say, "I'll have my secretary refer to yours, and we can find a day that suits both of us. In the meantime, I'll look over the details of the contract one extra time."

"Of course, Mister Grayson." Lucius said, and Dick felt himself sigh shortly in relief when some of the members of the board nodded in agreement. Obviously, it had been the right answer.

The meeting was adjourned a few minutes later and everyone filled out slowly, several of the board members staying for a few extra minutes to discuss something-or-other amongst themselves.

None of the talk seemed mean-spirited or directed at him, thankfully, so Dick busied himself with looking busy, flipping through papers that he pretended to read, hoping no one would attempt approach.

Out in the corner of his eye, Dick spotted a round body approaching, and he sighed in barely contained annoyance.

It wasn't like Mister Fisher was a bad businessman – in fact, he was very proficient at what he did. – he was just very.. loud.

And his breath always smelled of sardines.

Unfortunately, the man always seemed to want to get ahold of Dick, for some reason or other, usually right after a meeting, when Dick had a thousand other things to think about. It grated on his nerves, mainly because it normally had nothing to do with business, it was just small talk. Unnecessary small talk.

"Mister Grayson, I should like a word in private." Fox materialized from beside him quite suddenly, almost managing to startle the usually alert superhero.

"Of course, Mister Fox." Dick replied with as much dignified seriousness as he could muster, even though he was cheering wildly in his head for Lucius' last minute save. He got out of his chair quickly, gathered his papers and stuffed them into his briefcase before following the elder man out the conference room. He cast a quick glance behind him at Mister Fisher, swallowing a grin when the other man looked on in disappointment at the spot he'd just vacated. The two men walked to Fox's office in silence.

"Your timing is, as usual, impeccable." Dick told Lucius once they'd entered the office, letting a grin break across his face. It felt good. He smiled so rarely these days that the sensation was new, but not unwelcome.

Fox offered him the amused, secretive smile he always seemed to wear. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Mister Grayson."

_Mister Grayson._ The title made him feel _old_. When he was younger, Lucius had always called him by his name. In many ways, Dick had thought him like an uncle or a grandfather of some sort. But now that Dick had inherited the business and worked alongside the man, he called him Mister Grayson. Or Richard, at times.

Just like with Alfred, Dick had given up getting him to call him by his nickname a long time ago.

"So, did you actually want anything, or was that just to provide me with a quick getaway?"

Lucius' face sobered slightly and he pushed himself off of his desk, which he'd been leaning against, walking around it to sit in the large office chair.

"You managed to sit through a two hour meeting without actually paying attention for a second." It would've sounded like a scolding coming from anyone else, but Lucius simply seemed concerned.

Dick shrugged, focusing on the picture frame on Lucius' desk. He picked it up, realizing it wasn't a picture of a family member, but some generic landscape. "I'm sorry. I've.. had a lot on my mind."

"Alfred told me she was sick."

Dick's eyes whipped up to look at the older man, finding him studying his reaction with close scrutiny. He shrugged again and put down the picture, looking at the overcast sky beyond the tall windows in Lucius' office.

"Just a fever."

For a second, he didn't dare look at the older man. He was too clever, too good at reading people.

Then he realized avoiding eye contact would give him away even more, Dick met the clever brown eyes. And he knew he wasn't fooling anyone right now. Lucius had a decidedly triumphant look on his face as he knew he'd managed to guess the cause for Dick's absentmindedness on his first try.

"But you're still worried."

There was that word again. Worried.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Sure, I am. I'm not an unfeeling monster."

Lucius raised a brow at him.

Perhaps this forced, over the-top calmness and nonchalance wasn't as convincing as he'd hoped.

"Was there a point to this conversation?" Dick asked next, a challenge in his words and eyes.

Lucius shook his head. "Richard, I suggest you take the rest of the day off. You have no more appointments and there is no use for you to stay at the office to finish paperwork you could easily do at home."

Dick wanted to protest, but he knew Lucius was giving him a nice excuse to get out of the office and check up on Morgan. Without anyone else knowing that that was what had happened.

If things had been different, he'd just called home to ask, but now pride and stubbornness and the need to distance himself from her for both their sakes won out.

Dick nodded at the CEO. "Thanks, Mister Fox."

"You're welcome, Mister Grayson."

* * *

Alfred looked up at Dick as he came marching into the kitchen three hours earlier than when he usually came home.

"You're here early, Master Dick." The butler commented.

Dick shrugged. "Lucius told me to go home." He loosened the tie around his neck with a sigh of relief and discarded his black suit jacket over the back of a chair by the island in the middle of the room. The kitchen smelled delicious and Dick approached Alfred by the stove. "What're you cooking?"

"Goulash." The old brit responded. "It's for Morgan. The spices should help unclog her nose so she can breathe through it again."

Dick hesitated for a moment, at war with himself mentally as Alfred poured a large helping of the steamy dish into a bowl. "How is she?" He eventually asked. He decided it was fine that he asked, just this once.

Alfred thankfully didn't send Dick any smug glances of 'I-_knew-_you-cared-about-her-after-all' as he placed a plate with a few slices of bread on a tray. He put the bowl of goulash on the tray as well, followed shortly by a glass of water and two painkillers.

"Why don't you find out for yourself, Master Dick." He challenged as he picked up the tray and held it out for Dick to take.

He didn't. "Why do _I _suddenly have to feed her?" He asked instead, wincing when he heard how whiny he had come across.

"Because I have a long list of duties I need to do by myself now that my helper is bedridden. If you would rather like to offer your assistance in cleaning the toilets, then, please, be my guest."

It wasn't as much his words as it was the stern voice that made Dick accept the tray.

"Besides," the butler said, his voice absurdly polite, "it's time you stopped acting like a child and started behaving like the grown man you are. Please check her temperature now that you're at it."

He was out of the room before Dick had the time to pick up his jaw and aim a proper glare at him.

And so, there he stood, tray in hand, body frozen as he contemplated if he should do as Alfred asked or chase after the old man to ask _what exactly he was implying._

In the end, he found himself walking up the marble staircase of the manor, heading for Morgan's room. He hadn't checked in on her since he'd carried her there and taken her temperature. Not that he hadn't wanted to check in on her. Because he had. He'd just restrained himself. For reasons unknown.

The room felt stuffy. The blinds were drawn and the place smelled of sickness and sweat. The large bed that dominated the middle of the room was a mountain of blankets, piled so high, Dick could only spot a small tuft of blonde curls poking through. He wondered if all those blankets weren't a bad idea. Maybe Alfred hoped she would sweat it out.

He set the tray down on her bedside table, careful to not wake her. She probably needed her sleep. And she couldn't feel pain when she was unconscious.

Once free of his burden, he pulled back a single curtain and opened the window, knowing that fresh air was important if she wanted to get better.

Morgan shifted in the bed, but stayed asleep. Her face appeared from the mess of curls, flushed and sweaty. Dick sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. There was a crease between her eyebrows and her eyes darted around behind her lids. She must've been dreaming.

He allowed himself to study her for longer than necessary, arguing that it wasn't creepy – he was just making sure she wasn't getting worse. For a long time he sat, thinking about how easy it would be to smooth back the sweaty curls from her forehead. Just a small movement of his hand.

And he did, almost before he realized it. Her forehead was clammy and hot, but she let out a small sigh when he wiped the few greasy curls away. He told himself he was checking her temperature when the hand stayed on her forehead for a moment, only to trail down to cup her cheek, fingers digging into the curls behind her ear.

He was willing to admit he missed this.

Morgan drew in a big breath, her body coming alive as her eyes blinked open. For a moment, she didn't react at seeing him there, her eyes glazed over from sleep and fever.

"Tell Alfred I'm not going to eat whatever horror he cooked up just because he made you serve it." She said seriously.

Dick almost smiled, one corner of his lips quirking up.

"If you want any pills, you're gonna have to."

"Ugh." She groaned as a pale arm appeared from under the blankets, rubbing tiredly at her eye. "Fine."

He helped her sit up and handed her the tray before scooting back to the end of the bed, busying himself with looking everywhere but at her.

After a few minutes of very slow eating, Morgan flushed down the two pills with a sip of water and pushed the tray away. Her eyes found his form. "Why are you still here?"

The words should've sounded like a dismissal, but it seemed to be more out of curiosity than annoyance.

"Alfred asked me to check your temperature."

She huffed and made to move the tray back on the bedside table, but Dick got up to take it instead when he saw how shaky her arms were.

"I could've checked it myself, you know." She protested as she slowly lowered herself into the blanket pile again.

"Just shut up and accept the help for once." He grumbled and placed the thermometer in her mouth.

Morgan raised an eyebrow slowly. "That sounded just a _tad_ hypocritical."

Dick rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored the comment as he focused on his wristwatch, mentally counting to give himself something to do besides focusing on the woman in front of him.

Her temperature hadn't gone down, as the thermometer would reveal a moment later. Dick ordered her to sleep and quickly left the room to track down Alfred. After finding the butler and telling him the lack of news – telling himself he wasn't worried, everything would be just fine – Dick headed for the cave and stayed there all evening.

* * *

August 14th

Morgan didn't understand what she was doing at the Doctor's office. She didn't want to be here. She was tired and her body hurt and she really just wanted to be sleeping in her warm bed right now. She felt like whining loudly as she pouted at the floor, but Alfred gave her a very unimpressed look and so she kept any childish comments to herself. He was already annoyed with her because he had been unable to wrestle the blanket she was currently wearing off of her when they left the manor. She'd plain told him that she'd lie down right there in the main hall of the manor and not get up if he made her let go of the blanket. He had huffed at her and his wrinkles had been very pronounced with disapproval, but she'd won in the end.

A small victory in a great war, Morgan decided as she sniffled loudly to keep her nose from running everywhere.

Morgan reasoned that the fever was messing with her head and so – really – she should be allowed to pout and whine. She didn't want to be here. Her bed wasn't here. And sitting up was making her head spin and her stomach gurgle unpleasantly with a horrid mixture of hunger and nausea.

There was a teenage girl sitting next to her with music turned up way too loud, her legs stretched out before her as she slouched in her seat, her arms crossed in front of her body defiantly, her face hidden behind neon colored bangs. Morgan wanted the music to stop. It was getting on her nerves and her headache. But the teenager looked like she might literally bite the head off anyone who approached her, so Morgan sucked it up and told herself she was the grown up. She could handle the irritating music.

A doctor with greying black hair and an impressive mustache came into the waiting room and scanned the patients briefly before pointing his bespectacled eyes at the papers in his hands.

"Miss Morgan.. Jur-jorgenson?"

Morgan didn't want to be here. It was cold and too light and the doctor couldn't pronounce her stupid name. Maybe she should just get a name change.

"I believe that's us." Alfred responded when it became clear Morgan had no intention to.

The doctor looked at Morgan as she slowly got up, hugging the blanket tighter around herself as she shuffled after him. Despite her greasy hair, flushed face, red eyes and runny nose, Morgan couldn't bring herself to care about her appearance. She felt like shit and all this walking around wasn't helping.

The doctor showed her into a small room and asked her to sit on the cot by the right wall.

It was obvious he was very experienced and so Morgan quickly went into auto pilot, mechanically following every instruction he gave her.

"It sound like an aggressive case of influenza." The doctor eventually confirmed, his brows furrowed in concentration behind his large glasses. "I want to take a blood test, just to be sure you don't have anything else dangerous going on in there. If it is as you say and there's been no positive change for more several days, we'd better make sure."

Morgan nodded, not caring beyond wanting to get better. She'd like to get the appointment over with as fast as possible to she could go home and sleep. Alfred had said the visit would be paid by the Wayne fortune, so she didn't give much thought to the extra expense.

"Thankfully, we're not that busy, so the results should be ready in about thirty minutes." The doctor promised. Morgan nodded again. She gripped at the blanket and drew it closer around her shoulders, sniffling again.

She let him take the blood sample, calming herself with knowing that her wings somehow weren't detectable in her blood. The league had tried to take tests way back when she'd joined the team, but the blood test had told them nothing besides her having perfectly normal blood.

The doctor gave her a quick look before sighing. "Since we're not particularly busy today.. stay here while we wait for your results. Rest a bit."

Morgan wondered just how pathetic she looked for the doctor to offer that. Still, she was grateful she wouldn't have to get up.

The doctor left the room, and somehow, after a few minutes, Morgan found herself slipping out of consciousness. She was in a state of half-sleep, with her eyes only partly closed, her thoughts swimming, slipping in and out of dreaming. She could've sworn she's only been like this for five minutes at most, but suddenly the doctor came back and half an hour had gone by.

"Well, you certainly have the flu." He concluded with a weird voice as his eyes shifted between her and the papers in his grip. Morgan was sitting up again, her brain muddled by the half hour of almost-sleep.

He was looking at her strangely, his lips pinched together as he walked over and sat down in the dark brown swivel chair across from the cot she was sitting on.

"Miss, on the form you filled out before treatment, you stated yourself as currently not pregnant."

_Uh, so?_ Morgan wondered. She gave him a look of polite confusion, not entirely sure where he was going with this. It should've been obvious, she realized later. But currently, her brain wasn't fully awake and the doctor's words didn't seem to fully register.

"You are, though. Pregnant, I mean." He clarified. "Congratulations."

Morgan blinked at him. Once. Then twice. And then she frowned. Her heart plummeted and she felt the need to pinch herself because this had to be a nightmare. She was still asleep and the doctor hadn't come back with her results yet. "Wait, what?"

"You're pregnant." He repeated even though she wanted him to _shut up, shut up,shut UP! Stop lying! _"Just about five weeks along, according to the test result."

"B-but I'm not sexually active!" She exclaimed, trying to block out memories of skin against skin, dark hair tickling her collarbone, a mouth leaving marks on her body. She counted back and realized it was roughly five weeks ago.

The doctor gave her a look that said he clearly didn't believe her and Morgan's brain worked through her headache to explain. "I mean, it was only once – I-i took the pill a few days later!"

"Emergency contraception is not one hundred percent fool proof. Some of them don't work. Sometimes, the impregnated egg survives. Especially if you waited a few days before taking it."

Morgan didn't realize she was holding her breath out of pure shock until her lungs started to complain from the lack of air. Allowing herself to take a deep breath again, she blinked at the doctor, her mind in panic as she scrambled to find some other solution. Some excuse. She couldn't be pregnant, she just couldn't. It was impossible. It would ruin everything. She couldn't afford to be pregnant right now! She didn't _want _to be pregnant!

"This-this has to be some sort of mistake," she protested, even as the doctor gave her a look that finally seemed a tad sympathetic. He could probably see on her that this wasn't exactly ideal.

"Sorry. The results were quite clear." He looked at his papers again, like they were his lifeline. Morgan imagined she looked as read to cry as she felt, and that the good doctor probably didn't want to deal with a weepy, sick woman.

He looked up from his papers again. "I'll recommend getting an appointment with your own doctor as soon as tomorrow. Make sure everything is as it should be. You wouldn't want any nasty surprises."

Oh, because finding out she was _pregnant _wasn't a nasty surprise all on its own?

Morgan found herself nodding, the response automatic even as her brain spiraled into new depths of panic.

The doctor excused himself soon after, telling her to 'take a moment to collect her thoughts' before leaving. Morgan stared at the wall for at least ten minutes before she shakily got off the bed. Her shock was so great, she almost didn't feel the effects of her flu anymore. She wanted to cry, but she knew Alfred was sitting in the other room, waiting for her to get back so they could go home. So she couldn't cry, not yet. She needed to hold it together until she were alone again.

With mechanical movements, she got out of the room. The rest of the visit was a total blur. She couldn't remember the car drive home. If Alfred had asked her anything, Morgan certainly hadn't heard him. The word 'pregnant' seemed permanently branded on her thoughts. It popped up every time she blinked, like a horrible tattoo on the back of her eyelids. The second they got home, she tumbled out of the car and practically ran for her room without a backwards glance. She flung her door open and darted for the bathroom, emptying her stomach into the toilet. As she hovered over it, she realized with a small groan that she'd been throwing up regularly at least a week before the flu kicked in. She felt like she should've known, somehow. Sitting there on her bathroom floor, right after throwing up, she felt like it should've been obvious what was wrong with her. And even though she hadn't wanted to believe it a moment ago, she couldn't very well deny the truth now.

She really was pregnant. There was a human growing inside of her. She was going to become a mom.

..

Holy shit, Dick was going to be a father.

Somehow, she hadn't even thought of him until now. He had impregnated her. She'd gotten pregnant from a one-night stand with her ex-boyfriend.

He was going to be furious when he found out. At him or her, she wasn't sure. Probably both of them. And the situation in general.

She'd worked so hard to help him. She'd spent so much time trying to worm her way into his life again, to gain a bit of say over his fate. And they'd actually gotten on mostly civil terms by now. They were working together – he was letting her in again.

This would ruin everything. Her getting pregnant ruined all her hard work, destroyed her chance of becoming his friend again.

Morgan pulled herself off of the floor and rinsed out her mouth before dragging her tired body to her bed, where she promptly collapsed and buried under her covers.

Tears welled in her closed eyes and she let them flow freely, the mix of her sick body and terrifying situation getting to her instantly. She told herself it was okay to cry – she could always blame the hormones.

She couldn't let him know, Morgan realized. Dick couldn't know – not now. She knew he deserved to be told, she knew he would be even more furious that she was planning to keep it from him, but she allowed herself to be a bloody coward, just this once. She was scared, oh so scared, and she didn't want him to find out.

But she was five weeks along already and she knew it wouldn't take many more weeks before it started to show.

She knew that she'd have to leave. Even if she had a few weeks before the effects would physically show, Morgan knew they'd all notice that something was off. She wouldn't be able to act like everything was as it had always been, not when she was keeping something as big as this a secret.

She realized she wouldn't have to stay for long. In a week, her mom was moving into her new home. Morgan had planned to come and stay for a while to make sure her mom settled into her new life in a wheelchair. She could leave – they wouldn't have to find out just yet. None of them.

If she managed to hold out for just a few days, until her flu was over and done with, then she could leave. Nobody would suspect anything weird about it – it was perfectly logical that she would move in with her mom to help her for a month or two. And then.. And then she'd probably have to tell Dick. He deserved to know, after all.

With her mind in a terrified whirl, Morgan lay for hours under her covers. She felt wretched and young and not at all ready to be pregnant. She wasn't mother material. She was too busy and found herself in too many dangerous situations to take care of a child, unborn or not.

Her life was going to change radically from this day forward – it was never going to be the same. From now on, it was all about protecting her off spring – ensuring they thrived and lived a good life. But how was she supposed to care for a child? A miniature human completely dependent on her ability to take care of it?

Holy shit, she couldn't do this.

Perhaps her frenzied mind actually managed to tire her out, because at some point, her thoughts died down and she slipped into a restless sleep for the rest of the night.

* * *

In a turn of events that absolutely no one saw coming. JK, literally everyone knew. I guess I amde it too obvious. I did manage to fool a few people by giving her the flu though, to explain the vomitting.

Anyways, the cat's out of the bag. I know some people probably really didn't want it to be true, but I promise this won't go in a totally cliché and predictable direction. It's me, u guys, have a little faith.

AND IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS! IVE ALWAYS WANTED TO WRITE A PREGNANT OC. IMAGINE THE THING, GUYS. THE CRAVINGS AND HORMONES AND OMG MORGAN IS ALREADY A MESS THIS IS GONNA BE SO GREAT

Also, Merry Christmas and other holidays! I hope you all enjoy this festive time of year!

fun fact: more of a question - should the kid have wings? that would be so cool


	23. Losing You

**Chapter Twenty Three: Losing you**

* * *

August 17th

Tim burst through her door without a single knock, his eyes stormy as they found Morgan. "You're _leaving_?"

Morgan didn't pause in her work, but she looked briefly at him while stuffing another shirt into her duffle bag. The bed was a huge mess, suitcases and bags cramming up any space that wasn't occupied by piles of clothes.

"Yeah. My mom is moving into her new house the day after tomorrow and I want to go make sure everything is ready for her."

Tim slammed the door shut, whether out of frustration or to ensure privacy, she wasn't sure. He stalked towards her and shook Morgan's shoulders in clear frustration. "But what about Dick? What about all the work we've been doing? He's gotten so much better recently!"

"Tim, I have a responsibility to my mom right now." Morgan did her best to stay calm in the wake of his accusing look.

"You have a responsibility to Dick too!"

Morgan stepped out of his grip and gave him a narrowed look. "I've been neglecting my own life for months now in an attempt to help him, and it's barely done anything. I was stupid to think I'd be able to help him when he clearly doesn't want me around. Right now, I have to take care of my mom." _And myself.. _she thought, though she didn't voice it. "She needs me more than he does."

_And I need her so much right now. _

The look Tim gave her was almost too much to bear. The children of Wayne Manor concealed their feelings well – they were trained to – but right then, his face crumpled. His eyes shone with disappointment, his lips thinned with betrayal. Everything screamed of anger, hurt and an unwillingness to understand.

But then, how could he understand? He didn't know – didn't know _anything._

He scoffed and looked at the floor, clenching his fists. Giving her one last glance, he ran a hand through his thick black hair and scoffed again before turning on his heel, slamming the door loudly behind him on his way.

Morgan sat down heavily on her bed, winching when the echo of the door slamming shut seemed to bounce around the insides of her skull. Even though she'd technically won that argument, she couldn't help but feel like she'd lost.

She sat for a moment. Then she got up to finish packing.

* * *

"What did you do?" Tim's voice echoed accusingly around the Batcave, but Dick didn't react to it. He kept his firm gaze on the screen before him. He didn't need Tim's melodramatic, teenage hissy fit right now.

"I've done a lot of things, you'll have to elaborate." He eventually answered, only because, by now, Tim had reached him and was glaring silently at his back, his breath heavy with anger. Not that he didn't know what Tim was talking about. He just found that he would honestly rather wrestle Killer Croc with his bare hands right now, if it meant not having to talk to Tim about this.

"Why is Morgan leaving? What did you _do?"_

"I didn't do anything." He ground out. "Why is everything Morgan does and feels somehow _my _fault?" He finally turned at look at Tim, surprised by how ill at ease he seemed. Tim looked worried and angry and frantic, and a whole other myriad of emotions Dick normally didn't get to see on the teenager's face. It surprised him just how worried he looked, especially when he realized Tim was worried for _him. _

"Look, I know you expected Morgan to 'fix me' or something, and now you're afraid I'll go off the deep end or get myself killed because she's leaving." Dick rolled his eyes. "But I'm not an idiot. And I don't need fixing _or _protection. So leave me alone and let Morgan do as she pleases."

He couldn't wait for her to be gone.

..

No, that was a lie. He'd gotten used to having her around, and she had been useful during missions. He had even started training her again, which had made Dick feel useful outside of patrols and tracking down Batman's killers. And he'd liked having something besides Batman's work to look forward to, even if they'd only gotten to train one time before she got hit with influenza.

It didn't matter whether he wanted her gone or not – she hadn't left when he'd wanted her to, and so he had a feeling she wouldn't stay even if he wanted her to. This was Morgan after all. She'd sooner do something just because you told her not to than she would blindly follow orders. He supposed it was one of the reasons he'd gotten so fond of her in the beginning.

Dick quickly pushed such treacherous thoughts from his mind and looked over his shoulder at Tim, who looked torn between anger and frustration. Dick could tell that he'd hit the nail on the head with his comment. In the few months she'd been here, Dick hadn't once mentioned that he knew it was because Tim hoped she could coerce Dick in a new direction. He had known it, but he hadn't pointed it out. Perhaps it was because he knew it was pointless – it wouldn't do Dick any good, and it would certainly embarrass Tim.

No, he'd let it be, even though it was so obvious. And now – now that he'd outright told Tim that he'd known all along, the boy looked more frustrated than ever. The tips of his ears were turning red with embarrassment and he clenched his hands as he stared at the floor and tried to huff out a response.

"You once told me that your relationship had been one of the best thing that had happened to you in years." Tim reminded Dick. Surprisingly, he found a small pang edge its way into his heart. He had totally forgotten about that incident. Tim fixed stormy eyes onto him and Dick found himself completely pinned. "I can't believe you would throw it away because of pride."

And he turned his back and stalked out of the Cave, unaware of his older brother's eyes following him the entire way.

But Tim was wrong. Pride had nothing to do with it.

Dick turned back to the computer and spent the next half hour trying to dispel the encounter from his mind before his focus finally wholly turned to the work he'd been doing before.

* * *

January 4th, 2017

Unlike last year, that January was pretty quiet for the Team. The world still hadn't quite recovered from the Alien invasion, and it seemed no villain was in a hurry to launch a big scheme. Especially not when the heroes of the world had proved their worth ten times over. Nobody was keen to go up against them.

Dick had donned his Nightwing suit again in November and had started regularly patrolling his city. He joined the Team on missions too, but he found he'd begun to prefer the freedom and quietude of patrolling alone. He had gotten so used to leading the Team, and now that Aqualad had taken over again, Dick felt.. misplaced. He realized he wasn't as good at taking orders as he'd led himself to believe. And really, looking back on his days as Robin, he had to admit he probably hadn't ever been good with orders. Something in him just seemed to bristle whenever anyone else told him what to do. He easily squashed it down, but the feeling was still there, nagging the back of his mind and making him seek out these lonesome patrols.

Another part of him also felt like the Team was missing something. A curly-haired, feathery something.

Tonight, he wasn't alone, though. Tim was with him. And they weren't even in Blüdhaven, but Gotham, because Bruce had asked him to. The Joker was out and about and it had set Batman on edge to the point where he'd asked Dick to join Tim on patrol. The superhero didn't like the idea of his sidekick running around alone when the madman was wreaking havoc.

Dick had to wonder at the guy's timing. Every other villain was hiding, licking their wounds and waiting for everything to calm down again.

Maybe the Joker figured it meant more limelight for him if he struck when no one else did.

Gotham truly was the city where crime never slept.

"Wanna split up for a bit?" Tim asked, breaking Dick out of his thoughts.

Dick shook his head. "It's a pretty quiet night. No reason to split."

Robin looked slightly disappointed – he knew Nightwing was only there because Bruce had asked him to keep an eye on the younger hero, and he wasn't pleased with the apparent lack of faith. Dick understood both sides. If he'd been Tim, he also would've been annoyed by Bruce thinking he needed a babysitter for a small patrol. But Dick also understood where Bruce was coming from – it hadn't been more than a few years since Jason had been killed by the Joker's hands. And now, whenever the clown prince of Gotham reared his ugly face, Bruce became more brooding, angsty and overprotective than usual.

"I heard Morgan's lengthened her stay another couple'a months." Tim said casually from their perch atop Wayne tower.

Dick winched slightly inwardly at the sudden reminder, but he kept on a blank face as he nodded. "Yeah. Says all the legal stuff with his will isn't quite settled yet. And she thinks it would be cruel to leave her grandparents already. Apparently grandma is still quite a mess because of her son dying."

"I guess that makes sense." Tim shrugged. "So what do you think?"

"She's probably right." Dick pretended his grapple gun was giving him trouble and started fiddling with the gears, in an attempt to seem casual about the whole thing. He kind of hated that the trip kept getting longer.

It was supposed to be two months. Which then became four months. And now six. And he totally understood when she'd skyped the first time to let him know that the legal stuff was taking forever. It didn't make the wait any better, though.

"The lawyers are horrible." She'd said with a roll of her eyes. "Blood suckers and bandits. _Farmor_ pushed back Henrik's 'funeral' too because his brother is traveling right now, so I have to stay for that."

"And you're okay with it?" He'd asked carefully, because he wanted her to come home _so bad_, but he also wanted to be supportive.

Morgan had smiled, and Dick had been unable to not note that it was the first _real _smile she'd given him since she'd called ten minutes ago. "To be honest, I'm kind of glad? The past two months have gone by so fast –" Really? Dick felt liked they'd dragged by very slowly. "and I really do want to get to know as much of his family – my family – as possible. And _Farmor_ is still such a mess. I caught her crying into the dishwater a few days ago. I – my presence seem to make her happier.. I just know that I can't leave just yet." She looked almost sheepish. "It's okay, right? Dick?"

He had nodded quickly and plastered a smile onto his face. "Of course. I mean, it's only two months, right?"

"Only another two months." Morgan had nodded making a cluster of curls bounce in front of her eyes. He had unconsciously wetted his bottom lip and followed her hand as it pushed them back, and he had looked at her mouth and wished she were here instead of on the other side of the planet. "Hopefully."

_Hopefully._ God, the word made him want to punch something. It was the uncertainty of whether she was coming home or not. It was a small _if._

She had sighed and offered him another smile that Dick's stupid heart summersaulted at. "I wish you were here.."

He wished _she _was _here. _He wished they had a zeta tube in Denmark. The closest was in Berlin, and he had suggested coming for a visit more than once, but she'd said it would be kind of hard to explain to her grandparents. It would also take too long, she said. In reality, they were poor excuses, but he didn't push the issue, because he understood. She needed distance. Distance from everything involved with America, with the Team. With the alien invasion. She needed time to work through everything.

And because he was so intricately involved in all the things that were hurting her, seeing him would ruin the peace she was finding. It would burst the bubble.

He understood. But it hurt.

And part of him was sacred that he was losing her.

"Me too. But with my schedule.." he had lied, because it was easier than saying he _did_ have time to come for a few hours, and then watch as she scrambled to take the words back.

He wondered if she had forgotten how easily he read her. He wondered if she didn't know at all that he saw the conflict on her face.

The shine in her eyes had seemed to die down for a moment as silence stretched between them. Then she'd looked up at something off screen and a small smile had pulled on her lips. "_Farfar_ is calling for me to come to dinner." She had told him, the shine back in her eyes. "I'll see you whenever!"

He only just managed to blurt out a farewell before she'd ended the call.

_I love you._ He had added in his head, wishing he'd had the courage to tell her, and that she'd given him the time to let him.

Tim looked at Dick. "How are things between the two of you? Still close?" He asked, his tone very careful. Dick relaxed his hold on the grapple gun, as, at some point, he'd started clutching it uncomfortably tight in his hand.

"Everything's fine – good." It was a lie, but he wasn't even prepared to admit this to himself yet, nonetheless Tim. "We still skype every week."

"Week?" Tim frowned. "Dude, it used to be every day."

"I know!" He sounded way too aggressive and Dick quickly toned down the harshness of his voice, clearing his throat awkwardly. "But we're both very busy. And we don't have to skype every day to still be close."

He didn't need this from Tim right now. Because if anyone else started commenting on it, it started to get _real._ It became harder to ignore or explain away.

"Sorry," Tim took a small step back and help up his hands in surrender. He was about to say something else, but the com. in his ear beeped, and he pressed a finger to it. "Robin here."

Dick was grateful for the change of conversation. He was even more grateful when Tim explained that he'd been called in for a mission with the Team.

The younger boy left, along with his annoyingly perceptive questions, and Dick sat down on the edge of the tower, enjoying a few minutes of silence before he fired his grapple gun and swung away, hoping to catch some criminals to beat up.

He'd stumbled into Tim at the manor later that night. And for some reason, maybe because he felt like he needed to prove a point, he had told the boy that he loved Morgan and that their relationship – even though it was still very new – was one of the best things that had happened to him in a long time.

Tim had assured him that he hadn't meant anything by his questions – he had just been curious.

Still.

Dick had somehow felt both much better and also completely nauseous afterwards.

* * *

August 27th

Her new room was.. nice. Spacey and airy. There was a huge window that let in lots of light and, certainly, the lack of heavy emerald curtains did wonders for the lightness of the room. She'd felt like she was living in the Slytherin dormitories back at the manor with the 'ye oldie times' feel the place had – and those damn green curtains.

But this room was modern. The walls were white – except for one grey – and the floors a smooth, beige-colored wood. Her bed was big and comfortable and didn't have a strange lump in the middle like the one at the manor.

Yes, it was, indeed, a very nice room.

She hated it.

But then again, Morgan wasn't feeling particularly positive about anything, currently.

Her mom knew something was up – she was sure of it. Maybe it was because she spent all her days moping in her room – except for when she went on long walks. Long walks had become the only thing that kept her sane, currently. She'd walk aimlessly for hours and think about everything until her brain turned numb and she _stopped _thinking. And then when she stopped thinking, she'd enjoy the sudden calm for an hour or two before her myriad of thoughts returned. Sometimes, she actually managed to convince herself that everything was fine. She even found herself thinking lightly of the future. After every single walk, she felt a little better.

And then she returned to mope. The moping didn't help as much, but, really, she wasn't sure who would've expected her to just brush off the nasty shock and then keep going her merry way. She was _pregnant_. It wasn't like her condition got better with time – the opposite, in fact – so she was going to allow herself a little time to come to terms with it.

But her mom was starting to notice. Morgan was actually surprised by how well her mom was coping. The woman had lost all feeling in her legs – really, out of the two of them, she was the one with most cause for complaint. But she took everything in stride. She worked hard on adjusting herself for her new life and even laughed a bit at herself when she was unable to do a job. Morgan tried to put on a brave face for her mom, really, and she did all the chores around the house, but it was hard. It was hard watching her mom in this new state, and it was hard pretending she was okay when she was anything but.

There was a soft knock on her door and Morgan looked up from the book she'd been pretending to read. She'd been in there for hours and she'd only read a dozen pages or so, so she really wasn't sure who she was trying to fool.

"Come in." She called out, clearing her throat and reigning in her emotions, doing her best to keep her face clear and unbothered.

Her mom rolled in a moment later and Morgan offered her a tight smile.

"I made cocoa." She offered. Morgan got off her bed and reached for the pendant on her bedside table, slipping the adornment over her head.

"I'll be right out."

She let the book be on her bed and shuffled over, grasping hold of the handles on Abigail's wheelchair. Closing her door behind them, Morgan moved them to the kitchen.

It had taken Abigail a few days to be okay with Morgan wheeling her around – She figured it was something about a mom not wanting to seem dependent on her daughter. Morgan had argued that she was allowed to rest her arms every once in a while, especially in the beginning when they weren't as used to so much exercise yet.

By now, while Abigail didn't seem entirely pleased, she at least allowed it.

The two of them settled around the kitchen table in silent companionship and sipped on their hot beverages. Tonight was particularly windy, Morgan noted as she stared out the window. The rain was pouring, and the sad, old birch just outside the house looked ready to break under the strain of the weather. The long, tentacle-like branches whipped in the wind, making it look as if the tree was a sentient, moving being.

Without being aware of doing so, Morgan drew in a long sigh and closed her eyes. The insides of her lids replayed, in perfect detail, the same clip she'd been seeing over and over in her mind, both awake and dreaming: the black and white picture of a small bean-shaped fetus squirming around inside of her while her doctor cheerfully announced that 'there was the little squirt'.

She'd been to her first ultra sound a few days ago and the experience had been amongst the strangest in her life. She'd wanted to cry with both happiness and fear. Part of her, as soon as she saw the little thing, fell absolutely in love with it, even as the rest of her continued to be in shock and denial about her situation.

The doctor had said it was okay to cry – she could always blame her hormones. Morgan had wanted to shout at the woman to takes this a little more seriously.

"What's on your mind?" Abigail scattered Morgan's thoughts and made the younger woman look at her.

"Nothing much." Morgan neutrally answered. "I'm just a bit heavy-headed right now. I've been reading for hours."

"Is it a good book?" Her mom asked and Morgan hoped dearly she wouldn't start asking more questions, lest she find out Morgan hadn't been as much reading as she'd been staring at the pages with dull disinterest.

She shrugged, preparing as neutral an answer as possible. "'S okay. Nothing special."

Abigail nodded and took a slow sip of her hot chocolate. She placed it back down on the table and drew out a long sigh, studying her distracted daughter. Morgan raised an eyebrow in challenge as she watched her mom chew on a nail in contemplation, the way she always did when she had a question burning on her tongue.

Morgan had a nagging feeling she knew what this was about.

"Morgan, sweetie.. what's wrong?" Abigail gave her that famous, soft, mom-look that promised comfort and a want to make everything better. Morgan wondered if she'd get to master that look, now that she was going to be a mom as well. "And don't say that nothing is: I can see it on you."

Morgan gave her a blank stare for a long time, her insides strangely frozen, but roiling with so many constricting feelings, she felt nauseous from it.

But then, that might've just been morning sickness.

"It's not –" with a great, frustrated sigh, Morgan knew she'd have to take the plunge. Go right ahead and say it.. Or, you know, maybe lead up to it instead of just blurting it out like an idiot. "You're right, something is wrong. But it's.. kind of complicated. I-I can't.." _I can't come out and say it just like that. _

Morgan fiddled with the pendant around her neck, feeling restlessness settle in her body.

"I promise, no matter what, I'm here for you." Abigail anxiously pressed on. Morgan offered her a small smile and placed a hand, palm up, on the table. Her mom reached forward and clasped it, squeezing it slightly.

She was right – Morgan knew, no matter what, her mom would be there to support her. Abigail had gotten pregnant very young too – she'd only been nineteen – so she understood. She would understand how scared Morgan was. How young she felt.

Stupid tears started welling in her eyes at the thought. It meant so much to know that she wasn't alone.

"See, now I'm crying." She let out a wet laugh and wiped at her eyes. "Stupid hormones.." she whispered under her breath. "I've.. done something stupid." Morgan started, not sure at all how she was supposed to break the news to Abigail. "I'm.. You see.."

Abigail raised an eyebrow at her, a silent prompting to just let it out already.

Morgan blinked out a fresh wave of tears and wished her _stupid_ eyes would stop _leaking_. Looking outside, the old birch caught her gaze again. The wind was still whipping mercilessly at it, trying to break the trunk, but it didn't budge. Deciding to exhibit the same kind of strength, Morgan faced her mom again and blurted out the news before she could reconsider. "I'm pregnant."

Abigail shot upright in her chair immediately, looking like this had been the last thing she'd expected to hear. There was a tense silence. It allowed Morgan's thoughts to run amok and she felt a fresh wave of tears.

She remembered her mom once telling her that she'd been a huge cry-baby during her own pregnancy. Perhaps that kind of thing was hereditary.

The shock on Abigail's face was enough to make Morgan start doubting her support. After all, even though Abigail had only been nineteen, she'd been living with the father and in a stable relationship.

Morgan was alone. She was a single girl who'd gotten knocked up by the richest celebrity in town.

.. okay, maybe she made it sound more scandalous than it really was.

She was carrying Batman's child.

..

Okay that, sounded even worse.

Damian would kill her for stealing his thunder. After all, he'd no longer be the only 'child of the bat'.

"Oh, sweetie.." Abigail breathed. She sounded torn between extreme surprise and sympathy.

It made everything worse. Somehow, Morgan had hoped for some positive response. After all, if Abigail had been excited for her, it would've been easier for Morgan to be excited too.

And then she asked the question Morgan had feared most.

"Who's the father?"

Biting into her bottom lip, Morgan couldn't do anything but shake her head and inwardly groan as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks.

She didn't want to answer her. Because how could she? How could she look her mom in the eyes and tell her she'd been right about taking care around her new boss? How could she say that it was Dick Grayson, adopted son of the late Bruce Wayne, Gotham's new golden boy, and the magazines favorite person to speculate rumors over?

She couldn't.

But then, she couldn't tell her it was Batman either. She couldn't tell her mom that she'd been so careless with another hero.

Besides, nobody knew that Batman was currently a twenty-one year old, and not the older man from before.

Morgan couldn't tell her mom any of that.

So she said nothing. She just shook her head and cried.

"Oh, sweetie.." Abigail said again and moved to Morgan's side, wrapping her arms around her daughter and pulling her to her chest. "It'll be okay."

They sat like this for a while. Abigail smoothed her hand over Morgan's curls and allowed the girl to finish crying.

"Is it.." Morgan pulled back and watched as Abigail pursed her lips and mentally rephrased her question. "Is _Morgan _or _Sparrow_ pregnant?"

The question made Morgan stop cold. It had hit the nail right on the head, and Morgan knew her mom had realized this was the reason Morgan hesitated to give her any names.

"Both."

Abigail nodded with a serious look. She understood: the man was involved with both of Morgan's personas. Morgan knew her mom wouldn't prod any further about the father's origin, at least for tonight. Abigail understood that Morgan couldn't or wouldn't tell her about it, so she simply embraced her daughter again.

"Does he know?"

Morgan shook her head and sniffled loudly to keep her nose from running all over the place. "No. He'd be so pissed." She closed her eyes again and relished in her mom's soft hands running through her curls. A need to spill all the embarrassing beans made Morgan plow on. "It was a.. one time thing. We've been together before, but that was years ago, and this time we were both slightly drunk."

"When?"

"Um.. the day before your.. before your accident." Morgan swallowed dryly and licked her lips. She didn't want to sound like she was blaming her mom, but it couldn't be denied that Abigail's accident had been a big factor in the pills not working. "I was in the city, buying birth control pills, when the hospital called me. And then I just forgot about them. I mean, I remembered a few days alter and the pill should've technically still worked, but I guess it was faulty.."

Her mom tutted with sympathy again, and Morgan wished even more that Abigail would've sounded just a _bit_ happy for her. Just a tiny bit excited about becoming a grandmother.

"We'll be okay. You aren't alone – you and I can do this, together." Abigail said instead. Morgan _did_ feel comforted knowing that her mom was going to be there for her, but it only lessened a bit of the turmoil she was feeling.

Still, for a moment, she believed her. In the end, it was only a child, right? Morgan had faced so many dangerous things, a small kid shouldn't have felt like a threat. She decided that the moping was over from now on – it was time to be productive and practical about this. The baby was going to arrive whether she was ready for it or not, so she might as well prepare.

Feeling thus encouraged, Morgan moved out of her mom's embrace and gave her the most genuine smile of the evening.

Her stomach gurgled unhappily and Morgan's face fell before she got up and darted for the bathroom.

Her mom came in a few seconds after she was done, letting out a small chuckle. "I remember this part. I'm glad that's over, personally."

Morgan groaned and got off the floor. "I could do without this part too, to be honest."

Rinsing her mouth, she turned to look at her mom, not at all used to having to look down to meet her eyes.

"Thanks, mom."

Abigail gave Morgan a smirk very much like her own. "You're welcome. Now get to bed. We're cleaning the house tomorrow."

Resisting the urge to pout like a child, Morgan brushed her teeth and went to bed.

As she lay her head down on her pillow and closed her eyes, Morgan realized that this was the lightest she'd felt in days.

* * *

Lol hi everyone. I guess saying I'm sorry for taking this long is kind of pointless at this point. Either way, I really am sorry for taking this long. Apparently, finals were a little more hectic than I had expected.

I had sort of planned on Morgan being very angsty for a few chapters, but really, I'm not sure it would fit her well to be in a funk over this. She'll be on the mend from now on.

But she really is a weepy mom-to-be, so dont expect the crying to be over - just bare with her for a bit.

Also writing that flashback hurt me. Dick, poor little baby.

Fun fact: a previously unmentioned family member will be introduced to the story soon, and I hope you'll like this person as much as I do


	24. Magicians

**Chapter Twenty Four: Magicians**

* * *

August 28th

The next morning, her mom gave Morgan a bit of a rude awakening, far too early in her opinion. Eight AM, Abigail slammed the door open and turned on the vacuum cleaner, which she had apparently managed to lug all the way to Morgan's room. The loud noise woke her and she groaned, pulling the comforter completely over her head, turning around and hoping her mom would go away.

"Up 'n at 'em!" Abigail called, "C'mon! Company is arriving in a few hours and the house has to be spotless!"

Morgan sat up in bed and flung an arm out, using her telekinesis to turn off the vacuum. Her mom blinked at the thing for a moment before smirking at her daughter. "I'm just going to turn it on again unless you get up."

"I know." Morgan mumbled, but got out of bed. She didn't tell her mom she'd been up, throwing up for most of the night. Abigail would feel bad about waking her so early, and Morgan didn't want that. "Who's coming over?"

"Grandma"

Morgan instantly felt a bit more awake and excited about her day. "Yay! But why?"

Her mom looked slightly sheepish as Morgan walked to her closet and shrugged on a large hoodie over her t-shirt and shorts. "I sort of.. asked her to come. We both obviously need taking care of right now and she keeps saying that she wants to visit now that you're staying with me again."

"I suppose." Morgan neutrally answered as she came forward to push her mom into the kitchen. "Does she know about.. me?"

She realized why her mom had gone to fidgety all of a sudden. "Oh my god, she totally does, doesn't she? You told her?"

"No! Morgan, I would never, you know that." Her mom quickly exclaimed. Morgan settled her wheelchair in front of the dinner table and shuffled to the fridge, trying to decide what she felt she could safely eat without making her morning sickness worse.

"I know."

"But.. Well, if Grandma is staying for some time, you might have to tell her."

Morgan kept her eyes on the contents of the fridge, but she didn't really register any of it anymore. Her mom was right, of course, but that didn't make it easier. She felt like someone had sucker punched her in the gut every time she thought about having to tell another person.

"We're out of strawberry jam." She observed. "I want strawberry jam. Like, a lot."

Her mom smiled slightly. "That'll be the cravings." Her smiled slipped. "Morgan, please don't ignore what I-"

"I want strawberry jam." Morgan spoke over her mom, not willing to face this at all. "I'm gonna go buy some." She marched to the hall and shrugged on a pair of loose sneakers.

"Morgan-"

"I'll be right back. I just gotta get some strawberry jam." Morgan slammed the door shut behind her before her mom could say any more. Briefly, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the door. Then, taking a deep breath, she jogged down the driveway, sticking her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie.

She managed to keep her mind fairly blank on the five minute walk to the nearest store, her strawberry mantra managing to block out anything else.

In the shop, however, the second she actually had a jar of jam in her hand, her thoughts about jam quieted and gave away to other, more serious matters. As she paid the cashier, Morgan realized her mom was right.

Telling anyone about her condition was terrifying. But some people were less scary to tell than others. Her grandmother was one of the people Morgan wouldn't find quite as hard. She almost broke into a cold sweat just thinking about telling Dick. But her grandma – she would understand. Telling her wouldn't be horrible.

Morgan had made the choice to tell her grandmother about her life as a superhero. She knew about Sparrow and about Morgan's wings. She knew the truth behind her father's death.

If there was one person that should know about this new secret, it was her grandmother.

Morgan offered the cashier a small smile before leaving the store, feeling slightly better.

In the end, everyone was going to know. This was definitely one of those things that wouldn't stay hidden for long.

And, Morgan asked herself, would she rather personally tell people, or wait for them to figure things out themselves?

Shuddering, she knew she would prefer the first option.

So she'd start small. She tell the easy ones first. Build up the courage. The League and the Team all deserved to know. Actually telling the other heroes, however, was such a terrifying prospect that she shook her head and pushed the thought away for now. She focused on having to tell her grandma now, and then she'd think about everyone else later.

A cold hand of unease slithered down her back when she was forced to realize that she would have to tell Dick – soon. If there was one person that deserved to know above all others – before all others – then it was him. He would be pissed if Morgan told him last.

Hell, he'd be pissed that she hadn't told him immediately.

She pushed thoughts of Dick out of her head as she arrived back home, feeling much better than when she'd left. Her mom sat where Morgan her left her, but once she entered the kitchen again, Abigail looked up at her with a sad expression. Morgan tried to give her a small smile, but it turned out very weak and unconvincing.

"You're right, mom. I should tell grandma." Morgan quickly said as she set about toasting some bread. She got the feeling eating jam straight from the jar would be considered bad manners.

Abigail breathed a sigh of relief. "I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you, and if you don't want her to come, I understand-"

"No, I want her to come. Don't worry about it. If anyone deserves to know, it's probably grandma."

They settled around the dinner table, both comfortable with not talking about it for the next few hours. After eating breakfast, Morgan started cleaning the house, knowing she would rather get it over with as it was impossible to tell when her grandmother would arrive. The woman was always early, but _how _early would she be?

After an hour and a half, in which she had to go and barf up the breakfast she'd hoped would stay down but ultimately didn't, she was done. Settling on the couch with a small groan, Morgan just wanted to nod off. She'd been sleep deprived for months at this point – leading a double life was basically synonymous with not getting enough sleep – and in the time she'd been with her mom, Morgan had averaged on ten hours of sleep every night. Minus the times she was up and puking, of course. She suspected her body and brain were trying to catch up on the many hours of sleep she'd been missing out on. Last night had been different, though. She'd slept terribly. Maybe her morning sickness was getting worse.

Her sleeping habits had been the same her first few weeks in Denmark. Her _farmor _had been so confused why she slept so much, but Morgan had known it was a result of the stress, trauma and lack of sleep she'd been under the sixth months that had come before.

In the end, she dozed pleasantly on the couch for half an hour before her grandmother arrived.

There was a knock on the door, but neither Morgan nor Abigail had the chance to react before the elder woman had already allowed herself entry.

"Honey, I'm home!" She called and Morgan instantly smirked while getting off the couch to greet her.

"Grandma!" she called and hugged her tightly.

Victoria Grant was loud, happy, assertive and unable to be ignored for long. She was not much taller than Morgan and her hair was just as wildly curled, only a dark brown. It was a not-so-secret secret that she dyed her hair, unwilling to succumb to grey streaks.

"Morgan, dear." She chortled and squeezed Morgan's cheeks before hugging her daughter. "Abigail, you look good, considering."

Abigail offered her mom a careful smile. "I can't thank you enough for coming here on such short notice, mom." She said as Morgan fetched her grandmother's baggage and headed for the guest room. "We could both use a caring hand here."

"Yes I suspect this new arrangement will take some time to get used to." Victoria hung up her jacket before entering the house fully, looking around with interest. "It's a nice place, though. And it looks wheelchair friendly."

"It is. We had the place modified before I moved in." Abigail explained.

The two elder women settled in the living room and Morgan moved to the adjoined kitchen to boil water for their tea. She'd stopped drinking coffee once she found out she was pregnant, and though she wasn't entirely hooked on tea yet, she found she liked it a bit more every time she drunk it. So she leafed through her mother's extensive tea collection, trying to decide on which flavor to try out today. As the water finished boiling, she emptied a box of cookies into a small bowl and placed it on a tray with her selected tea flavors.

Abigail and Victoria had been idly chatting while Morgan was in the kitchen, but they looked up and offered her identical smiles as she entered.

Her grandmother soon frowned slightly at her. "You're looking a bit ill, Morgan. You alright?"

Morgan quickly nodded, hiding behind her hair as she bent over to put her tray onto the coffee table.

"Thanks, sweet." Her mom said. "We were just discussing dinner for tonight – what would you like?"

Morgan pursed her lips and slumped low into the sofa next to her grandma. "I'm not sure. Just.. nothing with a lot of grease. I haven't been able to stand greasy food lately. Just something light."

Abigail and Morgan shared a secret look, which Victoria was too busy with stirring her tea to notice.

"Pasta it is then." She decided. "I'll have to go grocery shopping tomorrow – stock up on some real food. I suspect the two of you, you with your newfound handicap," she pointed at Abigail with her spoon, "and you with suddenly having to take care of another person, being so young, are living off of leftovers and microwaved snacks."

Both Morgan and Abigail shuffled slightly in their seats, unwilling to admit how close to the truth that was.

Victoria tutted at them with a teasing grin, the wrinkles on her face deepening the smirk. "It sure is a good thing you can just call grandma."

Morgan smiled with closed lips, growing nervous quite suddenly when she realized she'd need to figure out the right way to spring the news on her grandmother. Her mom kept looking at her, as if waiting for Morgan to out her news at any moment, and it was honestly beginning to stress her out quite a bit.

Part of Morgan wanted to just blurt out that she was pregnant so as to get it over with as soon as possible, but she knew she'd have to deal with it more gracefully.

"Grandma, there was.. Well, you see, we didn't just ask you to come because mom is new at this whole wheelchair thing." Morgan began. She hadn't actually planned on spilling the beans this early. But now there was no turning back.

_Just breath, girl._

"So I'm guessing you've got some sort of problem as well?" Victoria squinted at her. "Your mom did say you were bedridden with the flu not so long ago."

"Yes, well, it has sort of to do with that." Morgan admitted. "At least, the flu was what led to me finding out – well.. I'm pregnant."

Silence.

Her grandmother blinked at her for a moment and Morgan held her breath. It had been easier than telling her mom last night. This time, there were no tears in her eyes.

Then Victoria let out a loud sound of surprise, but happiness. "I knew it!"

Both Morgan and Abigail frowned.

"Well, not that you were pregnant right now, of course. I just knew you wouldn't disappoint the family tradition." She chortled, slapping her knee. "You see, both your mother and I figured you'd probably get pregnant same age as us. We were quite surprised when nothing happened, actually."

Morgan stared blankly at her grandmother for a moment before her brain caught up.

"Right. Because you and mom both became pregnant at nineteen."

"And then you got that boyfriend of yours two years ago, we thought for sure."

Morgan's ears burned when all her mother's talk of protection and safe sex, when she'd started dating Dick, suddenly made sense.

Abigail let out a low chuckle as well and Morgan immediately felt her heart soar. This was the happy reaction she'd hoped for the night before. Victoria's eyes shone and she stood up to hug Morgan.

"Congratulations, sweetheart." She patted her cheek and sat down again with a small grunt. "Who's the father?"

Morgan stiffened and pressed her lips together.

"She won't tell." Abigail revealed. Morgan rolled her eyes.

Victoria hummed with disapproval. "Well then."

Morgan started nervously pulling at a few curls. "It's – well, it's very complicated. He doesn't know. It was a one night stand. It's not ideal at all."

Victoria shook her head. "A child is never not ideal." She firmly said. "So the father is not involved. No matter – the three of us can surely take care of this new life just fine."

Morgan felt a big weight fall from her shoulders just as an ice spike lodged itself in her heart. She was so glad she had both her mom and grandma's support, but the thought of Dick not becoming involved with his child.. No, it wasn't something she wanted to imagine.

Her mother and Grandma quickly started going off about raising a child. They entertained with stories of Abigail's – and Morgan's – childhood. Morgan sat quietly and listened, allowing herself a few hours of peace. She pushed back all her worries and focused on what the two were saying.

Both Victoria and Abigail had gotten pregnant at nineteen, meaning Morgan's grandmother was only just about sixty. She mused, not without excitement, about becoming a great-grandmother at such a young age.

"If your own child gets kids at the same time as the rest of us – well I'll be a great-great-grandmother by the age of eighty!" She laughed.

Mentally, Morgan already decided she would make sure her own kid made better choices and know more about prevention. She couldn't help but feel like the two elder woman didn't really understand the situation from Morgan's point of view – they had both been in a committed relationship. Victoria had been married for two years and Abigail had been engaged and living with the man. None of them had gotten pregnant with a guy they had feelings for, but ultimately couldn't have. Sure, Abigail and Henrik had gotten divorced, but they'd still been married for ten years. Morgan's child probably wouldn't even get that.

With a small stab in her chest, Morgan wondered if Dick would even be alive for that long – heroes weren't immortal. And Dick was, ultimately, just a man. He didn't have any super powers. The old Batman, the one everyone had considered invincible, had been killed. There was no guarantee the new one wouldn't be too.

_No – stop thinking these thoughts,_ she chided herself. These past few days, her mind had been travelling down dark paths all the time. She needed to snap herself out of it.

The day slowly ticked by and Morgan felt restlessness settle into her bones. She'd been largely nausea-free all day and her body was itching for activity. She normally wouldn't have gone this long without training or patrolling, but the past few weeks had, for good reason, been an exception.

Both Abigail and Victoria were the kind of people that went to bed early. "Early to bed and early to rise." Her mom had always said when Morgan was younger. They went to bed at nine.

Unfortunately for Morgan, she'd always been a bit of a night owl, which had only intensified after she became a hero.

She were practically bouncing on her feet as she brushed her teeth in the bathroom. The urge to go on patrol was overwhelming – so overwhelming, in fact, that she managed, for a few minutes, to forget why she couldn't.

It took her dashing into her bedroom and digging out her Sparrow suit before she remembered what was holding her back.

"Dammit." She groaned and threw down her mask. "Dammit, dammit, dammit.."

Morgan was forced to realize that, in a few months, she wouldn't fit her suit anymore. And even now, even though she could fit it, she couldn't risk using it. Physical fighting and chasing criminals was not risk free. She could damage herself. She could lose the baby.

But – but what if an emergency occurred? What if people died because she couldn't help them?

What if the League called all heroes for some worldwide crisis? She couldn't say no without having to tell them why. She would have to tell everyone that she was pregnant, because no other excuse would be good enough. And, either way, she didn't want to lie to the others.

In the end, Morgan couldn't help but feel like her hands were tied. She couldn't do superhero business because it would endanger her baby, but she couldn't _not _do superhero business because it would out her condition.

Maybe if she were careful. Maybe if she could hide her bump, she could still help out, if absolutely necessary.

But how would she do that?

There had to be some way to keep her baby bump from showing until absolutely necessary.

And then it hit her.

"Zatanna.." she mumbled as she fiddled with the blue pendant lying against her chest.

She picked up the mask again and slipped it on, shrugging into her suit. Then, sighing with relief at the well-known feel of her costume hugging her body, Morgan slipped out of her window and flew away, heading for the nearest Zeta tube.

It took a five minutes to reach, and she quickly set the course for the watchtower, legs jittery with urgency and the need for Zatanna to be there. Stepping through the tube, the five seconds of blankness didn't do much to pause her spinning thoughts, which simply kept going the second she appeared at the Watchtower.

She was so focused on finding Zatanna, she almost missed the voice calling her name.

"Hey, Sparrow!"

Halting in her step, Morgan blinked and looked at the man in the green and black suit, her preoccupied brain taking several seconds to connect the masked face to a name.

"Green Lantern. Uhm," she shook her head and found her manners. "Right, you. Sorry – hi. What's up?" inwardly sighing, she hoped this wasn't going to be a long conversation. If it was – then too bad, she'd just have to cut it short.

"Slow down sweetheart," he let out a small laugh and Morgan bit back a comment about not having given him permission to call her 'sweetheart'. "Wow, I almost didn't recognize you with your hair down. Wild thing you've got going on there."

She wondered if Guy Gardener simply chose to ignore that she'd clearly been in a hurry before he approached her, or if he just hadn't noticed because he was _that _thick.

"Right." She answered shortly, feeling annoyance grow even as she scolded herself. "I promise it's doing it all on its own." She flatly went on, hoping her unenthusiastic tone got him to back down.

He laughed, interpreting her comment as a joke and not an attempt to end the conversation. Morgan sighed again inwardly.

"So what are you doing at the Tower? Lookin' for someone?" His smirk was too cocky and Morgan almost answered with 'yeah, just not you.', but she told herself she was better than that.

"Yes, exactly. Can you point me in the direction of Zatanna? If she's here?"

"I think I saw her in the cafeteria area half an hour ago." Gardener answered, the first useful thing to leave his mouth since the beginning of their unwanted conversation.

"Awesome. Thank you. Good day." Morgan offered him a quick smile and spun on her heel, walking away as fast as possible, hoping this meant he would leave her alone.

"Wait – wait up!" He floated next to her and Morgan gritted her teeth together. She needed to lose this guy – she couldn't very well ask Zatanna what she was gonna ask her if the dude insisted on breathing down her neck. "I'll escort you. So you don't get lost."

Morgan frowned and paused, looking at him with a dead face. "I know my way around the Watchtower.. 'Sweetheart'."

_Play nice, Morgs. _

He settled on the ground, looking like he finally got the message that he wasn't currently wanted. "Oh. Okay then. I guess I'll just see you later – we could get coffee if you want." He smirked and Morgan was torn between amusement and annoyance that he seemed to bounce right back when she verbally hit him.

She flashed him a sarcastic smile. "The Tower is notorious for its horrible coffee."

"Well, it wouldn't have to be the Tower, right?" he raised his eyebrows at her.

Morgan laughed slightly, unwilling to admit that he somehow brightened her mood ever so slightly. "Good luck with that. And now I really do have to go." Smirking, she saluted him and opened her wings, beating them once, propelling her into the air and then across the room. Gliding into the hall that led to the cafeteria, Morgan pushed thoughts of Guy Gardener aside and refocused on the task at hand. Resisting the urge to jog, she forced herself to walk at a normal pace. Reaching the cafeteria at last, her eyes scanned the room for a certain witch.

Spotting the next best thing, she walked up to Black Canary. "Hey – you seen Zatanna?"

Black Canary looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think Captain Adam sent her to Starling City to deal with some crook necromancer."

"Oh." Morgan felt her posture drop with disappointment. "Ok then."

Leaving after a quick goodbye, she had originally planned to just head back to Gotham, but she felt determination pool into her stomach and she plotted in a different course instead. She hadn't been to Starling City in years, but that hardly mattered when she could just fly above it in her search.

She circled the streets slowly, flying as high to give her a better viewpoint as she could without being so high she couldn't recognize Zatanna if she saw her.

In the end, a large commotion drew her attention. Below, a street over, large bursts of colorful lights erupted every few seconds. Morgan figured, if she was searching for a literal witch, she'd do best to follow the strange lights, so she flew over and landed on top of a building, leaning over the edge to spot whatever was going on.

Her instincts proved correct – below, Zatanna and a man dressed in strangely old fashioned clothes, complete with a cape and everything, were battling it out. The man was wearing, and she was not kidding, a honest to god wizard hat, complete with the pointy end and small engraved stars and moons.

Morgan didn't understand magic much, only that Zatanna had to say words backwards to use her incantations. The man was shouting spells left and right, the tip of his _wand _bursting with light as he sent attacks at Zatanna. She dodged and gave as good as she got, but the guy appeared to be protected by a force field of some sort. A pouch on his belt emitted a constant, flowing stream of.. something that looked like mist, only it was glowing blue. It formed a barrier around him that pulsed with light every time a spell hit it.

It didn't take Morgan long to realize that Zatanna looked exhausted at this point, having used a lot of energy on the futile spells. It took her even less time to slip into her Sparrow mindset and attempt to figure out, what she could do to help.

A hand came down to rest on a stomach and she drew in a deep breath, realizing she would be endangering her baby if she tried to help Zatanna. Morgan couldn't know what it would do to her if she was hit by a spell. She couldn't be sure it wouldn't affect the fetus in some way.

A purple tinted spell hit Zatanna square in the stomach and she let out a surprised grunt as she fell to the ground from the force of it. Instinctually, Morgan jumped off the building and landed behind the wizard guy without a sound. She reached a hand forward in haste, probing at the shield with her telekinesis, trying to gauge whether she could penetrate it. Maybe the shield only worked against magic. She felt the barrier resisting and she closed her eyes in concentration, dulling her other senses in an attempt to fully grasp how it functioned. Slowly, she felt her powers slip through his defense, still without the man noticing, and Morgan shifted her fingers, closing around air, pulling roughly to the side. The belt on his waist broke and the shield flickered and died as the pouch was flung from his body, falling harmlessly on the ground twenty feet away.

The wizard man realized what had happened a second later, and he let out a horrible screech, turning on Morgan with fury in his eyes. The wand was sparking in his hand and Morgan took a small step back, fighting the instinct to cover her stomach protectively. True fear, the kind she'd only experienced a handful or times before, pooled into her veins and through her body – she didn't fear for her life. She suspected she could beat this guy in a fight, in the end. The problem was, she couldn't allow him to hit her even once. The risk was too great. She was no longer responsible for only her own safety. Everything she did would affect another life too now.

And _that _was terrifying.

He raised the wand and began a spell, but the words died in his throat when he was hit by a force from behind. Zatanna had regained her bearing and had sent a spell after him. Rope coiled around him and the man fell face first into the asphalt, a silencing spell muffling him.

The two heroines looked at the man and then each other.

"Sparrow," Zatanna sounded surprised to see her. "What are you doing in Starling City?"

"Looking for you." Morgan admitted right out. "I need your help."

Zatanna nodded and walked up to the man between them, levitating him off the ground. "The League said he was some crook necromancer and would be easy to take out." She began to explain. "Turns out, even though the necromancy was fake, his powers weren't. I haven't encountered such a powerful magician in a long time." She looked at Morgan. "Thanks. You probably saved my hide."

Sparrow shrugged, a small quirk on her lip. It _had _felt good to step up and do some superhero work again, even though a pool of guilt was roiling in her stomach.

Then again, maybe that was just morning sickness.

Her stomach gurgled loudly and her eyes widened behind her mask. _Yup, definitely morning sickness._ Running off the road and into a small alley where she'd hopefully be unseen, Morgan proceeded to puke her guts out.

She hated, hated, _hated _morning sickness. Her legs always started shaking, her throat burned and she broke into a sweat. It was like having a fever for a few minutes. And it was so unpredictable! She could be fine one minute and then puking the next. The nausea had become a near constant these past few days and Morgan felt like all she wanted to do was lie down and suffer.

Zatanna had followed her, obviously. The other girl paused and watched I surprised as Morgan finished. "You okay?" She asked a few minutes later, the man still floating behind them.

"Urgh," Morgan responded, spitting to get rid of the taste. "I'll explain everything once we get rid of that guy."

Zatanna nodded in understanding. "I've already contacted the police. They'll be here in a moment."

"Good." Morgan slumped down against the brick wall and closed her eyes, focusing on working through her nausea. It was getting slowly better as the minutes ticked by. Zatanna disappeared for a moment, only to return with the small pouch the man had been wearing.

"I better take a closer look at it. This is a very powerful shielding enchantment." She supplied, mostly to fill the silence.

Sparrow just nodded.

At long last, the police did arrive. Zatanna quickly left the small alley, levitating the man beside her, making sure to meet the police where they couldn't spot the sick hero on the scene. Morgan was grateful for it – she didn't need for her sickness to become public knowledge. People would start to speculate.

"Ok, they're gone." Zatanna came back in. "Let's get you out of here."

Morgan nodded again and slowly got up, sighing with relief when he legs were no longer shaky. The nausea had died down slightly, now more of an afterthought than a pressing issue. Zatanna started walking down the street and Sparrow followed after her.

"Where are we going?"

"I figured, whatever you're going to tell me, you would want it to be off the streets. We're going to my place."

Gratefulness made Morgan smile slightly and utter a small 'thank you' as the two girls disappeared down the street, heading for the nearest Zeta tube.

* * *

Hey its me, the trash queen. As usual, this is late and I am sorry. My life is just crazy busy - I've started on my second semester of university so my days are pretty packed. I promise I will do my best to post sooner the next time

Also, I am so sorry I made everyone think Jason was coming now. I had meant to specify that it was a member of MORGANS family, but I completely forgot

Fun fact: I reread the entirety of Guideliens a few days back. And Now im rereading Feathers, and its actually very motivating for me - it makes me want to write more


	25. Tabloids and a Crisis

**CHapter Twenty Five: Tabloids and a Crisis**

* * *

August 29th

"So what was that deal with Dumbledore back there?" The fifteen minute walk from the Zeta tube to Zatanna's apartment in New York had been silent up until then, but Morgan felt compelled to break it. The two of them were fellow superheroes of the same age and gender – they should be able to have actual conversations. Morgan just hadn't ever gotten to know Zatanna all that well. The magician had left the Team roughly the same time as Morgan had joined, and so the two hadn't had much opportunity to get to know each other. Even when Zatanna had provided her with not one, but two pendants, they had both been acquired by Nightwing – Morgan hadn't been directly involved. She had seen Zatanna eye the blue pendant she was currently wearing, knowing she must remember it – she'd created it, after all.

"The League caught wind of a guy supposedly raising the dead for a limited time, by payment from their loved ones, of course." Zatanna explained as she rounded a corner. Morgan adjusted the shoulder strap of her bag, having changed into civilian clothes on the Zeta location from earlier. Zatanna had simply uttered a word and her clothes had shifted into a casual set. "There are plenty of people pulling off tricks like that. Creating illusions is one of the simplest kinds of magic – it's one of the first people learn. This guy, though, made genuinely scary illusions. After an old woman was taken to the hospital due to her weak heart giving out during a 'session' with him, the League was contacted. They figured it was best to let an actual magician check it out."

Zatanna had walked up to an apartment building at this point, and dug out a key. She led the way to the fourth floor and opened the door to her apartment. "And since there has been no record or proof of it being possible to resurrect the dead.." There was a tight look on Zatanna's face, which made Morgan wonder if Zatanna had history with the subject. "Well, I expected it to be some newbie sorcerer that I just had to scare a bit to convince stopping what he was doing. He just turned out to be much better than expected. Strange thing was, he completely freaked out the moment he saw me. Started screeching like he'd been shot."

Morgan frowned. "Weird." She commented, not sure what else to say.

Zatanna nodded and walked into her kitchen, digging a bottle of white wine out of her fridge. "Want any?" She offered as she found two glasses.

Morgan quickly shook her head. She wasn't allowed to drink after all.

Zatanna simply shrugged and poured herself a generous amount, taking a large sip. "So," she eventually said. "What can I help you with?"

Morgan wet her bottom lip, almost chickening out when she remembered that Zatanna was Dick's ex-girlfriend. Of course it had occurred to her several times tonight, but she hadn't thought much of it until that moment. Now, she found herself very reluctant to tell her ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend that said guy had knocked her up.

More than anything, Morgan realized admitting it to Zatanna was going to make it much more real than her mom or grandmother. Because Zatanna would understand. She'd know what this really meant. She'd guess who the guy was, and she'd know how screwed Morgan was. How this was much more complicated than just the incident of a girl getting pregnant with her ex. This was much bigger. Admitting this to Zatanna meant that one other person in the world was going to know that Morgan was carrying the child of Batman.

"I need your help. I need.. an upgrade on the pendant." She began after several moments in which Zatanna looked steadily more concerned and curious.

The witch almost looked surprised at such a simple request. Morgan supposed she'd looked like she wanted to ask her something much graver. "Sure." She shrugged, standing to open a drawer in her kitchen. Producing a heavy looking bag that clinked as glass containers collided inside, Zatanna pulled out a book from underneath it. "What modification do you need?"

"It needs to.. Uh, it needs to hide my stomach – or, I mean, it needs to make my stomach look like it does right now. So that it stays this.. flat.." Moran trailed off at the wide eyed look of realization on Zatanna's face.

".. Morgan, are you?" Zatanna's eyes kept flickering from Morgan's face to her stomach.

"Oh god." Morgan felt her nerves give out as simple acceptance flooded her. At this point, her nerves had been fried for so long, Morgan had almost expected them to turn numb much sooner. She nodded and sat down heavily on the couch in Zatanna's conjoined kitchen and living room.

"Holy _shit!" _Zatanna exclaimed after several moments of silence. She came over and almost fell into the seat beside Morgan. Her eyes hadn't blinked once since Morgan's admittance. "_Holy shit!_"

Morgan pursed her lips and nodded. At least Zatanna didn't seem angry yet.

But then again, maybe she hadn't figured out who the dad was.

"When?"

"I'm.. wait, what date is it today?"

Zatanna looked at the watch on her wall. "It's the twenty ninth as of a few minutes ago."

"Ok, so in a week, it'll be two months." Morgan counted mentally. They had slept together on the sixth of July, if she remembered correctly. "I suppose it won't be long until it starts showing.."

She assumed the anxiety was rolling off of her in waves, because Zatanna placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It was a one-time thing." She admitted, wetting her lips and swallowing dryly. "We were both slightly drunk and sleep deprived." Waiting for the truth to click with Zatanna, Morgan chanced a look at her face.

Zatanna frowned suddenly, looking cautious. "Morgan.. who is the father?" she sounded like she already knew the answer and would know if Morgan tried to lie.

Morgan took a deep breath as she prepared herself to admit it out loud for the first time. "Dick."

She felt the hand on her shoulder tense and closed her eyes so she couldn't see the anger she feared was on Zatanna's face. There was a long pause and then a deep sigh from the magician.

"Girl.. You _really_ screwed up."

Morgan opened her eyes and looked at her, her stomach unclenching when she saw no anger on the other girl's face.

"Yeah," Morgan nodded. "I know."

"No, really, a _lot." _Zatanna went on, her tone exaggerated. "Like, if I had to make a 'Hall of Screw Ups', this would be the crowning piece."

"Yes, that makes me feel so much better." Morgan grumbled. Zatanna offered her a small smirk that somehow made Morgan feel a thousand times better.

"I'm.. sorry for coming to you with this. I realize it might be.. odd. Given your history and all."

Zatanna shrugged. "Whatever Dick and I had – well, it was a long time ago. And it wouldn't have lasted. I'm over him and I know he's over me too. Don't worry about it."

Morgan wondered how Zatanna always managed to seem so nonchalant about everything. Like nothing bothered her much.

"Lets see about that pendant, then, shall we?"

Morgan got up and found her bag, digging out both of her pendants.

"I'm not sure if you remember –"

"The orange pendant hides your wings from anyone not on the team and the blue hides them entirely, with the weight and mass disappearing too." Zatanna interrupted, offering her a small smile. "I keep track of the charms I hand out."

Morgan nodded, "I haven't had proper time to think this through yet, so I'm not sure how to do it best." Her thoughts were wiring as she contemplated which pendant to use. "I suppose if we charm the orange one to hide my baby bump and _only_ my baby bump, I could just wear that always and then use the other to hide my wings as before."

"Ok, so one wing-hiding charm to remove and one baby-bump charm to cast." Zatanna shifted through the book she'd placed on the counter before. "Here it is." She read a phrase under her breath and then asked Morgan for the pendant.

As she spoke the incantation, the pendant emitted a small pulsing glow before fading to its usual, slightly obnoxious color. Zatanna spoke another word and the long, black, leather string shortened and the pendant shrunk into a small pearl on the now thicker cord.

"What's that for?" Morgan instantly questioned.

Zatanna grabbed her wrist and closed the leather cord around it. "It's so you don't have to wear two necklaces at once. Might look slightly suspicious."

Morgan nodded and offered Zatanna a close-lipped smile. "Thank you so much Zatanna. This.. this just made everything so much easier."

Zatanna nodded and put away the book while Morgan placed the blue necklace around her neck again, feeling the weight of her wings disappear.

"Morgan.. does he know?" Zatanna asked once silence had settled for a good minute.

Biting into her bottom lip, Morgan shook her head. "I'm going to tell him. I just.. I'm-"

"Terrified." Zatanna finished for her.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Morgan nodded. "We barely get along as is. Can you imagine how he'd react if I told him I was pregnant?"

Zatanna shrugged. "I've known Dick for a long time – hell, I've _dated _him for a long time. One thing I know is that he never backs down from responsibility. And he owns up to his mistakes. I dunno, maybe – maybe telling him won't be such a bad thing."

Morgan nodded again, mainly because she didn't want Zatanna to start reprimanding her.

"Morgan," Zatanna reached forward and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, bending down so Morgan would look her in the eyes. "No matter what, you'll have to tell him – soon. He deserves to know. And he'll never forgive you if you keep it from him."

"Damn you for making such a good point." Morgan groaned and blinked rapidly at the oncoming tears.

_Why was she such a cry baby these days?_ She let out a weak laugh and wiped at her eyes. "I swear I thought I was done crying. I guess it's the pregnancy hormones. Either way, I'm gonna blame them."

Zatanna let out a small tut of sympathy before briefly giving her a one-armed hug. "I'm sure everything's going to work out." She assured her. "You still gotta tell Dick, though. Promise me."

Morgan nodded and repressed an eye roll. "I promise. Don't worry."

She just wasn't sure _when_ she'd tell him.

_Soon, _she promised herself, _I'll have to tell him soon. _

"You've got half an hour before Artemis comes home." Zatanna said, reminding Morgan that the two of them were roommates, currently. Artemis had quit the hero business, supposedly for good, after only six months as Tigress, and moved in with Zatanna in New York, where she was studying Human Biology and Comparative Literature as her two majors in college, according to M'gann. "Unless you don't care about her seeing you cry."

Morgan shook her head. "Don't worry, it'll stop in a minute. And I'll make sure to be out of here before she comes back. She can't know the truth and I wouldn't want you to lie for me."

"'K, then." Zatanna shrugged. "Take all the time you need before leaving."

Morgan only stayed for about another ten minutes before she was on her way. Arriving in Gotham, exhausted, she slipped through her window again and collapsed on her bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

September 5th

The lady beside her had been tapping her feet near constantly since she'd arrived ten minutes ago, and Morgan would've been impressed with her consistency if she hadn't been just about ready to rip her fake extensions out.

She tried focusing on everything else, praying that her mom's appointment would be over soon and keeping up an inner mantra of "_you're better than snapping at strangers, you're better at snapping at strangers, you're better-" _

The lady's knee knocked into the small coffee table, making Morgan jump in her seat, and she sent the woman a withering glare.

_Its ok, the hairdresser will be done in a moment, _she reasoned with herself when the woman simply resumed tapping her foot. She sent her another glare before her eyes focused on the magazine the lady was reading.

The tapping was forgotten almost immediately as Morgan discovered something much, much worse.

There, in the corner of the front page, was a picture of _her, _and beneath it, the line; "_From Girlfriend to Housekeeper? Read all about the drama at Wayne Manor!" _

"_Holy shit!" _Morgan hissed out and quickly snatched the paper out of Fake-Extensions' hands. The woman was about to protest loudly, but Morgan cut her off, "Oh, shut it, Happy Feet. Bigger things are at stake here."

Like Morgan's sanity.

Morgan flipped through the magazine until she found the right page, her jaw and her heart dropping in sync as she took in the small collage of picture _of her_ that was taking up half the page. She let out a small gasp that was half indignation, half disbelief as she took in the pictures. The first was one of her in the middle of hanging up laundry to dry outside the Manor. The next had clearly been taking from a distance and through a window, but it still showed her and Alfred in the middle of making dinner. Below them was the worst picture of the bunch, though. It was clearly a few years old, as both she and Dick looked much younger. She recognized the dress and realized it must've been taken at the fundraiser they'd gone to undercover, the night she'd first met Fathiya. In the picture, Dick had an arm wrapped around her, and he was wearing a smile Morgan had later learned was his 'society' smile. Young Morgan, despite looking both flustered and caught off guard, was smiling genuinely at the camera. The scene sent a small shard of ice through Morgan's chest. It was an unwelcome reminder of a time when their relationship had been much simpler.

She moved her eyes from the pictures and to the text that accompanied. The headline read "_From_ _Girlfriend_ _to_ _Housekeeper_?" like it had on the front page. It went on to remind the readers of 'heart throb' Dick Grayson's short but passionate affair with the Wayne foundation scholarship student, Morgan Jourgensen (They'd spelled her name wrong!). Then it explained that they had broken it off because Morgan was going travelling.

"_Sources claim the young woman returned to Gotham this June, and moved into the Manor shortly after. However, unlike we here at Trend Magazine had deduced, she did not move in to reestablish the now two-year old relationship-"_

_"_Oh my god." Morgan mumbled, feeling horror and embarrassment prickle at her insides. The article went on to explain how she and Dick apparently hadn't gotten together again, but rather, he'd hired her as a housekeeper to help the family butler. In a small side note, it mentioned that Morgan had been travelling due to her father's untimely death, which had 'made her want to reconnect with her non-American family'.

"_One thing is for sure – whether she arrived at the Manor to play house maid or not, we here at Trend Magazine will be keeping tabs on these two's relationship with interest." _The article concluded.

"Oh my _god._" Morgan groaned, slapping the magazine against her bowed head. She closed her eyes and took a moment to just process this.

Some sleazy tabloid had written an article about her and Dick's relationship. Some tabloid had been sneaking photos of her at the Manor. Seriously, what the heck?

She supposed it made sense – slightly. Dick _was _the adopted son of the late Prince of Gotham. He was in the tabloids all the time. Morgan just hadn't even imagine it was something that would involve her – especially not now that they weren't even dating. And Morgan wasn't even living at the Manor anymore.

If it got out she was pregnant, the magazines would have a field day.

Morgan was about to check the date of the magazine when the tapping lady had apparent had enough, and snatched it right back from her.

"_Hey!" _Morgan exclaimed.

"I had it first." Tappy responded icily.

Morgan groaned and made a move to steal it back, but the woman was prepared for it this time and held it out of her reach. "Oh come on! I just need to see the date of the magazine!"

The lady just kept glaring at her. Morgan sighed and slumped back in her seat, feigning surrender. Then, when the woman least expected it, she sprung forward and wrenched the magazine from her again. It was beginning to look very worn. The woman let out a hiss of disapproval, but Morgan hardly cared as she found the date.

It was a month old already. She sighed with relief and didn't fight back as the woman made to reclaim the paper. When it was a month old and no one else had mentioned it yet, then they probably weren't going to either. Now all she could do was hope _Trend_ _Magazine _didn't plan on making more articles about Morgan's personal life.

She wondered if she could sue them for this, but quickly pushed the thought aside. She'd rather avoid the fuss – she didn't need everyone else to find out about the article.

A few minutes later, the hairdresser had finished cutting Abigail's hair, and Morgan waited impatiently as they dealt with the payment. Once they got outside, Abigail asked if anything was wrong.

"You seem very tense, suddenly." She studied Morgan briefly.

Morgan quickly shrugged it off. "The lady beside me kept tapping her feet. It was extremely annoying." She used as an excuse. Her mom chuckled lightly. Morgan was glad the waiting room at the hairdresser's had been in another room, both so her mom hadn't seen what Morgan was really worried about, and also so Abigail hadn't seen her show of very poor manners.

Reaching their car, Morgan got her mom out of her wheelchair and into the passenger seat before folding her transportable wheelchair and stuffing it into the trunk.

"We _really _need a wheelchair-friendly car." She grumbled as she got into the car and turned over the engine before fastening her seatbelt. Her mom offered her a small guilty smile.

Problem was, they couldn't really afford it right now. With the hospital bills and then getting a wheelchair-friendly _house_, they'd spent a great amount of the money from her father's will already. And Morgan, pregnant as she was, probably wouldn't be able to get a job anywhere. Why hire someone you knew would have to go on maternity leave in a few short months? So Abigail and Morgan would have to live off of Morgan's heritage until Morgan could get a job and Abigail figured out what she wanted to do now that she couldn't be a nurse anymore.

"Maybe I'll write." Abigail had mused one evening. "I always liked writing."

Morgan just hoped it would help her mom pay the bills. Heaving a sigh, she forced down the tight lump in her throat, hating how trapped she felt all of a sudden. Things were going to work out. She'd be fine – they'd all be fine. She could do this.

Pulling out of the parking lot, a stiff silence fell in the car. Neither woman felt like breaking it, both wrapped up in worries for the future and sorrows of the past.

* * *

September 6th

His stomach was rumbling, and had been doing so for half an hour, but Dick willed himself to ignore it a little while longer. He knew Alfred would be ready with dinner in a little while, so he figured he'd cram in work first. The Batcave was chilly tonight, so he kept on the suit as he worked in front of the computer, once again looking over the data they'd retrieved from Ivy's exploding plant. He needed it to tell him something other than it being laced with fear toxin. He needed more answers – a location, some way to track the people behind it.. He needed a way to find Scarecrow and find out what _his _involvement in this was.

_I bet Bruce could've done it, _a bitter voice in his head muttered. _I bet Bruce would've figured it out ages ago. _Gritting his teeth together and clenching his fists, Dick fought the urge to bang them on the desk in frustration. It worried him that someone was developing plants that could poison people with fear toxin. Obviously, something big was at work, but he couldn't figure out _what_. And _who_.

Or _why_.

Groaning slightly to himself, he got up and decided to let his work wait for a bit. He wasn't getting anywhere, and he was wasting his time just staring at the screen.

He needed some _real _work. Some real action – something to _do _other than patrol Gotham and brood in the Batcave. He felt like he was going crazy.

Taking off his cape and slipping into a hoodie over the suit, he left the cave. He couldn't be bothered to take his suit off entirely – he was going to wear it again tonight anyway. He followed his nose and rumbling stomach, ending up in the kitchen where Alfred was frying fish fillets.

The old butler looked up at his arrival. "I take it you will be joining us for dinner?" He asked as he turned his attention back to the stove.

Dick nodded. "Yeah." He'd gotten better at remembering dinner – he'd eaten with the others four days in a row now. He picked up an apple from the table and took a bite, ignoring Alfred's disapproval at 'spoiling' his appetite before dinner.

Seriously, Dick was convinced he could age to be forty, and Alfred would still mother him.

Dinner was.. fine. Damian was Damian, which was to be expected, and Tim wasn't actually home. The two boys ate alone and mostly – okay, _entirely – _in silence. Dick didn't care all that much. No talking meant no arguing, which meant no fighting. And since they were going on patrol later, Dick preferred Damian not being pissed at him.

.. More than his general Damian-ish pissed-off-ness.

Once it was over, Dick retreated to the cave and turned on the police scanner while searching the news, police database, anything that might give him some news on Scarecrow, Joker, or a third but unrelated crime he could deal with. He sat there for an hour, tinkering with an electronic lock pick that had started acting up on his last patrol. Damian arrived and did a light work out before slipping into his suit, waiting for Dick to announce it was time for them to leave.

He was just about to when the computer beeped loudly, drawing his attention. In the low corner, a red box flashed with the words 'incoming call: Justice League'. Frowning lightly – he hadn't had anything to do with the League for weeks at this point – and pulling on the cowl, he nonetheless walked over and tapped a button to answer the call. The video chat popped up, revealing a very serious-looking Superboy.

"Superboy." Dick spoke first, his voice instinctively lowered to match that of Batman's. "Why are you calling?" he asked neutrally. Asking 'what do you want' would've been downright rude, but saying 'what can I do for you' would have come across as too eager to help, so he settled for something in between.

"Batman – we've got a problem. The big kind." Superboy looked uncomfortable addressing him as Batman, but he plowed on. "Multiple high level security prisons where, uh, 'attacked' only moments ago. All at the same time, all over America. We're calling in _everyone _we got for this."

Batman looked over at Robin, who stood just outside Superboy's view. He smirked and nodded encouragingly, twirling his training sword in his hand.

"We'll be there in two." Batman accepted, surprised to see the look of relief on Connor's face. Something told him this situation was _serious. _They must've really needed his help when they asked for it – Dick hadn't had a thing with the League for a long time. He'd stopped coming to the Watchtower when he'd gotten too tired of everyone trying to tell him how to be Batman. They kept interfering, insisting he was endangering himself when he was in full control of what he was doing, insisting he wasn't well when he was _fine. _It had gotten unbearable to listen to, in the end. Like having over twenty parents all trying to have a well-meaning and heartfelt talk with him, when he didn't need it.

And yet, part of him was almost excited to go back – just this once. He suspected it would be awkward at the Tower, but as soon as the League went on its mission, he knew everyone would slip into their hero mindset. He could be part of the group for a day. Which he missed. _A lot._ At this point, he wasn't even sure why he never went to the Watchtower anymore. He suspected it was more pride and stubbornness than anything else. And he didn't want to return and for everyone else to simply continue their stream of 'well-meaning' advice. He'd grow insane.

Batman and Robin quickly gathered their usual gadgets, restocking their utility belts and putting them on. Then the two heroes shared a resolved nod before slipping through the Zeta tube in the Batcave. Arriving at the Tower, Dick paused for a moment, taking in the sight. He hadn't been up there for at least two months. It looked the same as always, of course. Stepping off the platform, he ignored the surprised looks from the heroes he passed, his back straight and steps resolute. He kept his gaze straight forward, his bearing unflinching, as he headed for the main room, Robin right beside him. The sight of the boy following him actually made Dick less uneasy about being here. He told himself it was silly to feel weird about it – he was Batman. Batman had been one of the first members of the League – a founding member. And even though he wasn't the original Batman, he'd been Nightwing before. He'd been the original Robin. He'd been a founding member of the Team.

He had every right to be here.

As soon as he reached the main room, Superboy spotted him, approaching in haste. The place was slowly filling with heroes, everyone sporting a tense look and furrowed brows as they waited for the briefing to begin. They really _had _called in everyone.

"Thank you for coming." Superboy looked genuine in his appreciation.

Dick nodded. "When a crisis occurs, earth's heroes must answer." He responded neutrally, watching as Black Canary got onto a chair from the cafeteria, drawing everyone's attention.

"Everyone!" she called, and silence fell over the room. "Thank you for being here on such short notice. We don't have a lot of time to explain as the attack is going on as we speak. Six prisons of various security levels – though all of a high enough level to cause great concern – were attacked simultaneously only twenty minutes ago. The assailants are of unknown origin – possibly alien. The prisons are all experiencing mass out breakings. The weird twist is that the unknown army isn't breaking out the prisoners – they're _attacking _them. We have several reported dead already. These attackers aim to kill, so beware. They have unknown weapons, maybe even powers. Your job is to contain the escaping prisoners as well as protect them and stop the attack." There was a short pause as Aqualad stepped forward and gave her a pad. Batman could only guess it detailed the squads and their objective.

"You will be placed in squads averaging six people. I will shout out your names and your destination, and you are to leave as soon as I give the order." Black Canary went on. "Alpha squad: Plastic Man, Miss Martian, Static, Green Lantern – the first – Red Robin and Icon. Green Lantern is squad leader." The six heroes stepped towards the Zeta tube immediately, Green Lantern hovering by the controls, waiting for a destination.

"Your mission is Belle Reve." Black Canary sent them on their way. Once the light of the tube had faded, she looked at her screen again. "Beta squad: Aqualad, Supergirl, Zatanna, Red Tornado, the third Green Lantern and Sparrow."

Wait, Morgan was here?" Dick instinctively craned his neck, looking around for the girl. She was at the other side of the room, already waiting by the Zeta tube, and Dick wondered how he hadn't seen her before, with her large wings as a dead giveaway. Green Lantern glided up to her side and grabbed her around her shoulder, chatting loudly and enthusiastically about being assigned to the same squad as her.

Guy Gardener.

_Ugh_.

What a tool.

Sparrow and Zatanna shared a small look that Dick could notice, but not decipher from this distance.

"Squad leader is Red Tornado. You're going to Alcatraz island." Black Canary told them. Red Tornado set their course and the squad disappeared in a flash of white.

Dick felt a tensing in his shoulders, but he ignored it, focusing on Black Canary once again.

"Gamma squad: Blue Beetle, Rocket, Martian Manhunter, Batman, Robin and Green Arrow." Black Canary met Dick eyes as practically everyone in the room snuck a glance of him. The people that hadn't noticed him before looked surprised, while the others send him a wide range of looks, from encouraging smiles to confused disapproval.

Dick squared his shoulders, narrowed his gaze, and walked to the tube. The other heroes unconsciously parted for him, a habit the old Batman had inspired in all of them. Nobody wanted to get in Batman's way. He wasn't sure how he felt about causing the same reaction from them now. Robin walked beside him, looking, Dick suspected, twice as intense and threatening as he did. Damian was obsessed with being taken serious despite his age and height. He looked ready to murder at any moment, not because he was particularly pissed currently, but because he wanted the others to fear him.

Reaching the Zeta tube, Batman waited by the control panel as the rest of the squad arrived.

One thing was certainly clear: Batman was back. And everyone knew it.

"Arkham Asylum. Batman is squad leader." Black Canary looked at Dick, and he got the feeling she was looking _through _him, her eyes sharp and calculating. Her message was clear: play nice and don't screw this up.

Dinah was giving Dick a chance.

He gave a miniscule nod and she seemed satisfied, turning her attention back to the remaining heroes in the room. He set the course to Arkham and waited for the others to step through the Zeta tube before following last.

* * *

TADAA!

I wasn't going to miss Broken Wings 1st birthday now, was I? Here is an EARLY chapter, for once! I hope you enjoyed - won't be long until our two love birds will start talking again. It was much easier to write this chapter than a lot of the former ones bc I'm very excited about the stuff to come soon.

I hope to hear from all of you. I'm still so amazed that I get reviews, considering how slowly I've been updating. Hopefully, now that I've broken the streak, I'll be able to keep it that way.

Fun fact: I had gotten to the part where Superboy called Batman and then had to pause (I was in the train and by my stop anyways, so I had to stop either way) like 'excellent, a crisis is happening. Now I just need to figure out what the crisis is.' because I honestly had no idea what sort of situation to go with. But I was inspired to go wtih this and my brain is already whirring with ideas for how this plotline will play out.


	26. Alcatraz Island

**Chapter Twenty Six: Alcatraz Island**

* * *

September 6th

She'd been feeling pretty well today. Morgan suspected her grandma's new, very healthy line of food was what made Morgan less constantly queasy. All the food was low-fat, from scratch and made with lots of love. She'd only had to tell her grandma once that greasy food made her want to hurl, for Victoria to never cook any greasy food again. For the next few months at least.

Right now, however, Morgan was craving apples. A lot. After dinner, she lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling, wrestling with herself over whether the trip to the nearest shop was worth it. On one hand – exercise and getting out of the house. (And she looked horrible – her hair hadn't been washed in four days and her jogging pants had a gravy stain on them.)

On the other hand – delicious, sweet, juicy apples.

She'd made up her mind and quickly rolled off her bed, standing with a noticeable lack of grace. On her way to the hall, Morgan stopped in her tracks when a very specific ring went off.

The Justice League was contacting her.

With a deep sigh, Morgan dug out her phone, ignoring the stares from the two women in the living room.

"Sparrow here." She shortly said, pressing a hand against the doorframe and leaning some of her weight on it.

"_Sparrow, we need you to come in. We've got an emergency on our hands. Briefing in ten." _

She recognized the voice, but not as much the worried tone. M'gann sounded very serious so Morgan instantly pushed down her personal worries.

"I'll be there in five." She sighed, mentally kissing her apples goodbye. Honestly, she knew she should've taking a shower today.

She shrugged off the shoes she'd just put on, moving toward her room once again.

"Morgan?" Her mom appeared in her door while Morgan dug through her closet, removing the fake back and pulling out the bag with her suit in it.

Knowing what was coming, she sighed, but still answered. "Yeah?"

"Are you.. do you think this is a good idea?" Victoria silently walked up as Abigail spoke, pausing behind her wheel chair.

Morgan sighed harshly this time. "Look, I don't have much choice. Bigger things are going on. They wouldn't call me if they didn't need me."

"Yes, but-"

"I have a duty to this team and what it stands for." She cut in, looking solemnly at the two worried women blocking her doorway. "I know it's dangerous and I know it's stupid, but it's something I gotta do. Now let me through." She pushed past them and jogged out the door.

Two minutes later, she was at the zeta tube side. Hurriedly slipping into her uniform, she made sure her charmed bracelet was still in place. Exactly five minutes after ending her call with M'gann, she zeta'ed to the Watchtower. Like she'd expected, the place was busy with heroes, all heading for the main room. She quickly got off the platform and followed, feeling her stomach churn with anxiety. This had to be something serious when they'd called for this many heroes.

With a flick of her cape, Sparrow secretly enjoyed her dramatic walk as she marched for the main room. Walking through the doorway, she scanned the room, doing a headcount. With a surprised intake of breath and a spike in her heart rhythm, she spotted Batman standing at the back of the room. Quickly ducking behind Captain Atom and flattening her wings against her back, Morgan hoped he hadn't seen her.

Peaking around the captain, she studied him. He looked well. His face was drawn in a serious mask and he stood tall and proud, but with a sense of belonging. Like he fit here. She hoped he could see it too – he _did_ belong with the League.

She hadn't seen Dick since moving out. Unconsciously, she stood straight behind Captain Atom again and placed a hand on her flat stomach, her mind instantly travelling down an unwanted road. Seeing Dick made her stomach squeeze with guilt and her thoughts ring with worry.

"Alright, Sparrow?" the Captain looked at her weirdly and Morgan quickly gave him a smile, dropping her hand back against her side.

"Of course, Captain." She cleared her throat and tried to sound both untroubled but aware of their current crisis – the result wasn't successful in conveying either, but rather made her sound strangled. "I'm just anxious to find out what's going on."

He nodded. "Prison break, with an unknown force attacking inmates thrown into the mix." He explained. "Black Canary will give you the details in a moment."

Morgan nodded, her mind already whirling. Prisons being attacked? By an unknown enemy?

A hand came from behind and grasped her shoulder, and Morgan's heart climbed into her throat

_Please don't be Batman, please don't be Batman, please don't be Batman.. _she wished as she turned around.

Unsure whether to be relieved of even more worried, Morgan faced Zatanna, who did not look very pleased. "Hey Zatanna. What can I do for you?"

"We need to talk." The other girl said seriously. "Follow me."

With a bowed head, feeling like a scolded kid – she already absolutely knew what this was about – Morgan followed obediently after the other girl.

They walked into an abandoned corridor and Zatanna sealed the door shut, muttering a word and moving her arm in a swooping motion over their heads.

"Silencing barrier." She explained before Morgan could ask. Then she looked sharply at the other girl. "Morgan, what the hell?" Zatanna demanded. "Why on earth are you here, in your condition? If I had known you wanted that charm just so you could continue working as Sparrow, I never would've made it!"

"That's not why I had you make it." Morgan quickly protested. She crossed her arms in front of herself, half self-consciously, half in stubborn defensiveness. "I never would've come here if it hadn't been an emergency. I – well, I didn't have any excuses ready and I couldn't just say I couldn't make it. I.. _can't _have anyone know right now. And no other excuse would've been good enough." She ran a hand through her hair and tugged at her curls. "But it's tearing me up, that I have to be here. I know it's dangerous and reckless and I'm risking far too much. But I feel like I don't have a choice."

Zatanna deflated and her expression transformed into one of sympathy. "I get it. Morgan, I really do get it. Just – be careful okay? Don't take any risks – stay in the background. Let the others do the heavy lifting. Pretend to get injured so you get out of helping, if it comes to that." She came forward and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "This life inside of you is too precious to lose, don't you think?"

Morgan smiled with one corner of her mouth and nodded. "Definitely. Hopefully."

"Good." Zatanna bent forward and placed a hand on Morgan's belly. "Tcetorp eht ybab." She murmured, her voice echoing around them as it always did when she used a spell.

"What was that?" Morgan asked once the other girl had straightened and stepped back.

"Protective charm. It won't stop a bullet, but it'll shield the fetus from a certain amount of blunt force."

Morgan felt gratefulness swell in her and she blinked to prevent her eyes from watering. At this point, she was so sick of crying, even if it wasn't sad crying this time. Honestly, she was so ready for these pregnancy hormones to go away. "Thank you so much." She said with conviction.

Zatanna waved her away. "Think nothing of it. Just take care."

Morgan was more thankful than ever that she'd chosen to approach Zatanna with her problem – having a literally magician to help her was just what she needed.

"Have you told Dick yet?" Zatann asked next.

..

Having a magician to help her was great – having a strongly opinioned friend to prod at her wasn't.

Morgan sighed and pressed her lips together, raising her eyebrows. "Do you think I'd be here if I had? He wouldn't have allowed it."

Zatanna let out a short laugh. "Touché. You gotta-"

"I gotta tell him." Morgan interrupted, feeling like she'd heard this far too often. "I know."

The two shared a look before Zatanna muttered another spell, removing the silencing charm around them. Then they walked into the main room again, just in time to hear Black Canary's mission briefing.

Staying at the back of the room, Morgan kept finding her eyes traveling towards Dick. Zatanna noticed and offered her a small smile. Morgan wondered if her inner turmoil was visible on her face.

Paying attention to Black Canary, she felt herself slip into her hero mindset. The situation was serious – a large number of people were in danger right now. And even though they were criminals at high security prisons, they didn't deserve to be abandoned. It would be a slaughtering quite unlike anything before, if they didn't step in to control the situation.

Black Canary started assigning squads. Alpha had barely left before Black Canary had listed Beta, and both Morgan and Zatanna looked at each other with relief when they were assigned the same squad. Given the situation, Morgan knew this was as good as it would get – with one other hero there to know about her situation, she'd feel infinitely safer. They approached the Zeta tube together, both looking at Black Canary as they waited for the others. Once the entire team was assembled, Green Lantern slung an arm around her shoulders with natural ease.

"What luck, the two of us getting assigned to the same squad, huh?" He smiled charmingly.

_Great._

With Morgan's relief over being on the same squad as Zatanna, she'd totally forgotten about the green annoyance also on their team.

She rolled her eyes and shifted slightly to the side, hating that she caught several Justice Leaguers and Team members casting short glances at Batman, still hovering at the back of the room, as if they all simultaneously remembered that the two of them used to date, and now wondered what his reaction to the Lantern's flirting would be. Sparrow for her part made sure to not look in his direction.

She was _not _going to be the League's next piece of gossip.

Not even the protectors of the world were above such frivolities. She knew nobody's business stayed their business for long at the Watchtower. For people so big on keeping their identities secret, they loved personal drama far too much.

As soon as the Zeta tube opened, she slipped under the man's arm and walked into the white light.

Alcatraz Island. Morgan hadn't ever been there before, but, obviously, the place was legendary. One of the harshest, toughest and most secure prisons in America. It housed some of the most dangerous criminals.

Then again, all the prisons under attack probably contained some of the worst criminals in America.

Reopening her eyes, Morgan and the rest of the squad found themselves on the beach of Alcatraz. The prison was uphill, looming ominously against the sunset. The clouds were blood red from the setting sun, creating a murderous atmosphere.

Above the prison, to everyone's surprise, hovered a black flyer. It was over a hundred feet long and Morgan was unpleasantly reminded of the Reach. One wall of the prison had been blown up, rubble covering the ground, smoke rising from the crater. The Penitentiary was buzzing with panicked activity, the sound of guns and explosions almost drowning out the screams and shouts that could be heard even from the distance of the beach.

The heroes shared a small look between them before racing towards the mayhem. Supergirl, Green Lantern, Sparrow and Red Tornado all took to the air immediately.

"Aqualad, scout the water for any unseen threats. If there are none, join the rest of us as soon as possible." Red Tornado said. Kaldur nodded his consent and ran off their course, jumping into the water below. "Supergirl and Green Lantern, disable the flyer and make sure no more attackers reach the prison."

"Yes sir!" Green Lantern enthusiastically said as he and the girl of steel headed for the flyer.

"Sparrow and Zatanna, you and I will attempt to break up the fights going on inside. Protect the inmates, but do not forget that they may be as much of a threat as the attackers. Once the outsiders are dealt with, the prisoners may very well attempt to attack us as well. I will locate the warden and explain the situation."

They hastily entered the prison through the giant hole that had been blown into the outer wall. No one wasted any time talking as they split apart and engaged their enemy. They knew, for every second they wasted, the casualties could multiply.

The prison was not what Morgan had expected as she landed on the upper floor. It was much lighter than anticipated, with high ceilings and white floors and walls.

_I suppose not every prison can be Arkham._

She pushed thoughts of prison comparisons away when a group of four masked and armed men rounded a corner up ahead. Anxiety spiked immediately as they spotted her, shouting angrily in a foreign language.

They _looked _human, though Morgan couldn't really place their armor and tech. The guns were large, with no visible trigger. On their side was a smooth orange surface, roughly the size of a dessert plate. One of her unknown enemies placed his hand on the orange spot and the gun started firing almost immediately. As the green shots fired, it was with the sound of lightning crackling. The man holding it was aiming wildly and badly, and Morgan simply ducked out of the way before aiming her telekinesis at his firearm and tugging at it.

It didn't budge. Her mental control kept slipping on the unknown weapon and she was forced to focusing on the man instead. She made him slam into the wall and he dropped the gun. The three other men had looked unsure at her arrival at first, but now that she'd attacked their friend, they leapt into action. Soon, a whole volley of green shots were aimed her way, and Morgan was forced to stay behind the wall she'd initially ducked behind.

"What I wouldn't have done for a smoke bomb right about now.." she mumbled, wistfully thinking about all the gadgets she'd had access to at the Batcave.

"_Ekoms!" _The echoing voice brought thick, grey smoke with it, and Zatanna landed beside Morgan. "I told you we should stay together."

"Right." Morgan got out from behind the wall as the men stopped shooting in their surprise. "Thanks."

The two women walked through the smoke, keeping to opposite walls, in case their enemy regained their wits and started firing again. The second Morgan had advanced close enough to spot one of the men, she threw out a hand and sent him flying backwards. He landed with a _thud _and lost his grip on the gun, which skid across the floor. Zatanna had cast a spell that bound the other, and the two females ran forward and simultaneously punched the last.

They halted for a moment to assess their handiwork. Then there was a loud explosion that seemed to rock the very foundation of the building, followed by a chorus of shouts and screams. The two of them were briefly thrown off balance as the floors shook and the walls cracked.

Getting on her feet again, Morgan shared a look with Zatanna before they ran off, heading for the sound of the commotion. Rounding the corner, they skid to a halt at the absolute mayhem unfolding before them. It was another long corridor, cells in two neat rows against the walls. The floor in the middle of the hall had caved in, smoke rising from the gaping hole. Four cells had been wrecked by the explosion and Morgan dearly hoped they'd been empty before. The other cells were filled with inmates, all looking fearful and wild, trapped as they were.

"Save us!" One man shouted, pressing his face against the bars denying him freedom. He looked at them with wide, pleading eyes.

Morgan and Zatanna sped for the hole and looked down. The floor below was a warzone, but the cells down there were thankfully empty. The explosion had happened in an uninhabited part of the prison.

"Help!" A man scream and Morgan looked at the cell closest to the blast. The floor had caved in completely, but from the bars of the cell hung an inmate. Before either hero could do anything, a new squad of enemy soldiers appeared at the other end of the corridor. Upon seeing the two females, they started firing. Zatanna quickly cast a protective shield around them.

"I can hold them off for now." She assured Morgan, motioned for the man hanging from the bars. "Help him."

Morgan walked up to the cell and wrapped a hand around one of the thick metal bars. Tapping into her telekinesis, she wrenched the cell door open and crouched to offer the scared inmate a hand. He accepted it and let her drag him up.

"Were the other cells empty before?" She immediately asked with authority.

He shook his head no. "The one opposite mine wasn't."

Morgan approached the mentioned cell, got rid of the door and peered down. There, on top of the rubble, lay an injured inmate. He was unconscious and his leg was clearly broken, but he looked alive.

"Zatanna," Morgan addressed the other superhero. "We need to free the inmates. They're sitting duck in those cells – and it looks like whoever the attackers are, they're planning on bringing down the whole building."

Zatanna didn't look happy about it, but she nodded eventually. "You're right. If we want to limit casualties, we need to give them a fighting chance."

Morgan turned to the man she'd helped, who looked unsure of his part in this. "Is there a way to open all cells simultaneously? It'll take too long to do it manually."

"The Wardens office. He was switches for each floor, in case of fire." He explained.

"Can you show the way?"

He nodded uncertainly.

Morgan looked at Zatanna who was still holding their attackers at bay with a shield. "Go. I'll deal with them."

"Right," Morgan turned back to the inmate, not sure how she felt about collaborating with a criminal. Then she remembered Batman and she had been working with the Riddler not so long ago, and her reservations fell away. "Show the way."

"Sparrow," Zatanna motioned for Morgan to come closer. "Make sure to keep an eye on him. He's in here for a reason. Be careful."

Morgan quickly nodded at the whispered words, casting a look at the man waiting for her a little ways down the hall. "I will. Don't worry."

"I'm going to worry. You shouldn't even be here in your condition."

Rolling her eyes at her and offering Zatanna a confident smirk, Sparrow turned and ran after the inmate.

"What's your name?" She asked a moment later, not wanting to have to refer to him as 'inmate' for the entirety of their mission.

"Mack." He said shortly, looking about as they passed several halls and doors, clearly trying to remember the right way.

"Alright, Mack." She held out a hand to stop both of them in their tracks once they'd reached the floor below. A huge pile of what had once been the ceiling lay in the middle of the corridor, and Sparrow could hear the sounds of battle going on above them as Zatanna fought the intruders. Jogging towards the unconscious man she'd spotted from the floor above, she pressed two fingers against his throat. There was a pulse, but he had clearly been hit hard over the head, and had a broken leg, which was bleeding heavily from a large cut. "You'll have to point me in the right direction now. One of us has to stay here to take care of this guy, and I'm not gonna let a convict into the Warden's office. No offense."

He looked like he wasn't sure if he should be offended. But eventually he nodded and crouched down beside the unconscious guy. Carefully, he lifted him up and moved them away from the part of the ceiling and floor that had become unsound from the explosion.

Which Morgan still had yet to learn the origin of.

"You know how to stop the bleeding?"

"Yeah." He nodded and pulled his shirt over his head, using it to apply pressure to the wound. "You want to hit the ground floor. There's a map. Shows where the office is."

"Okay. Uh, thanks, Mack. You've been helpful."

He shrugged it off, the well-defined muscles in his shoulders shifting at the movement. "Make sure me and my pals don't get killed, and I'll be the grateful one." He offered her a sarcastic smile. "You heroes ain't all bad."

Sparrow took to the air and sped down the hall. It was just wide enough for her wingspan as she glided along. Eventually, she came upon a staircase that led downwards, breathing with relief when she hit the ground floor. Using her wings as a brake, she landed on the floor and quickly ran for the front desk. It had been smashed in two and one corner was on fire, but the map behind it was still intact. She was honestly surprised that a prison like this even had a front desk, but she didn't question it. Staring at the map for a moment, she attempted to memorize the way before taking off again.

_Two rights, then a left and then another right.._ she repeated in her mind until the combination stuck.

Two minutes later, she had nearly arrived when a new explosion rocked the hall. She was thrown off balance, but kept going. The ceiling cracked ominously and Sparrow sped up as, behind her, the hallway started caving in. the floor below her became unsteady and she cursed the narrow hallway – too narrow for her wings to function. All she could do was continue to propel herself forward as fast as her short legs could carry her. She stumbled when large cracks appeared beneath her feet and fell forward, her sped making her roll several feet across the floor. She sprung up immediately and jumped forward again, clear of the destruction by only a few inches. The cave-in stopped, the clattering of pebbles falling to the floor echoing around her. The amount of dust in the air made it impossible to see anything and Morgan coughed when she breathed it in.

Eventually, completely silence fell, and she sat for a moment, waiting for the dust to settle. She really hoped there was a window in the Wardens office, otherwise she wasn't entirely sure how she was supposed to get out.

Her comm. crackled to life before she could contemplate the matter further.

"_Is everyone okay? Half of the east wing just caved in, from the looks of it up here."_ Green Lantern asked with concern in in his voice.

There was a chorus of confirmations from the others and Morgan pressed a hand to her ear. "I'm good too. I might be stuck on the wrong side of that cave in, though."

"_Did you get to the office?"_ Zatanna asked.

"Not yet." She got off the floor and dusted her hands. "But I'm close."

"_And how are.. you?" _

Placing a hand on her belly, Morgan knew everything was well. She'd been conscious to avoid any hits to her stomach. "_I'm _fine. I'll contact you when I'm done here."

"_Right."_

She continued down the hall, making sure to avoid suspicious cracks and holes in the floor. The cave-in had effectively shut her off from the rest of the fight, and the silence that followed was eerie. Before, she could hear the other heroes fighting, the shouts of the prisoners and their attackers as well as explosions and guns going off. Now, there was nothing. The dull thud of a far-off, minor explosion could be heard, but other than that, only silence and darkness greeted her. The hallways weren't big on windows, and the lights had gone out with the explosion. With a sigh of relief, she finally reached the office she was looking for, the metal name-plate on the door sending the glare of her flashlight back into her face.

The heavy oaken door was locked, but aside from stone and metal, wood was the material Morgan found the easiest to manipulate, so she simply wrenched it off its hinges and left it to lean against the wall. Stepping inside, she sighed with relief at the natural light from the window behind the desk and stuffed the flashlight back into her belt. She had a way out after all. Approaching the desk, she pulled out all the drawers, searching for anything that could tell her how to release the prisoners. The second drawer to her left revealed a small control board with several switches and buttons and she figured this must've been it. It took a bit of searching, but Morgan eventually found which switch on the control board did what. Each floor had its own switch and she quickly flicked them all, sitting back in the large chair and waiting for any news.

"_Red Tornado, the prisoners are somehow all getting out!" _Green Lantern spoke up again a moment later. Morgan realized he must've been in the building instead of the fighting the ship above them.

"_Herd them outside where they will be safe for now. Guard them so they do not attempt escape. Aqualad will assist in this. The prison guards are all outside too – they will control the inmates."_

_"__As you wish." _Kaldur's calm voice spoke up for the first time since they mission had started.

Part of Morgan was tempted to simply stay where she was, clear of any attackers. Not for her own sake, because the thought made her feel like a coward, but because of the life inside of her. But she reasoned that the office might not be safer than any other part of the prison, though it was abandoned. She had the sinking feeling that Alcatraz Penitentiary could fall apart at any moment. Getting up from the chair, she approached the window behind it. It was small, but she suspected she might be able to shimmy through, if she could break the glass. She knocked uncertainly on it, frowning at the thickness. This could take some time.

Using her telekinesis, she pushed the air and watched as the frame groaned, sadly to no effect. A shockwave from beneath her threw her off balance and Morgan grabbed onto the edge of the desk. A new bomb, this one seemingly in the basement, had gone off. She wondered how many of those blasted things there were.

A new sense of urgency flooded her system, when the floor started crumbling at the other side of the room, the cracks slowly inching towards her. Morgan turned back to the window and poured all her mental focus into strengthening her fist before punching it. It probably hadn't been her best course of action. Sure, the window broke, but it also cut into her fingers and wrist where her gloves couldn't protect her. With a sharp hiss, she withdrew her hand and clenched it, assessing the cuts quickly. They were bleeding a lot, considering, but she suspected it looked worse than it actually was.

At least, it seemed to loosen the frame, and she used that to her advantage. Focusing on the tough steel frame instead, Morgan managed to blow out the window – _finally._

The floor beneath her started to give out, and she jumped for the hole she'd just created. With a throbbing hand, dangling from the frame, she looked down at the disappeared floor. She could see two floors down. Thankfully, there were no dead people in sight. Folding her wings tightly against her back, she hoisted herself up and through the window.

Tried to, anyway. Her wings were too large to fit through, even as they were folded as close to her back as they could.

"Dammit." She groaned as she realized she was stuck. All was not lost, however, because she remembered the pendant in her belt. If she could get her arm unstuck and put on the necklace that made her wings disappear, then surely she could also get out of this pickle.

After a bit of wrestling and squeezing, she got hold of the necklace in question. She had to shimmy backwards a bit to fit her arm through the hole and close to her face. Slipping on the glamor charm, she sighed in relief when the pressure on her chest and back was released. Her only problem now was getting the necklace off again in time so she could fly away and _not _crash into the rocks many feet below.

With some maneuvering, she was finally out and instantly freefalling. Grabbing the cord around her neck, she pulled it off and spread her wings as they reappeared. She flew high to assess the damage done to the prison, and was surprised at the destruction. People were still running outside, but most of the inmates and guards seemed to have assembled on the small stretch of beach below the prison. Supergirl was still battling the ship above, but she seemed to be dealing with it fine on her own. The prison wing Morgan had just escaped from had more destroyed sections than intact ones. She'd honestly been lucky she'd escaped with nothing but a bleeding hand, and Morgan felt delayed fear spike at how close she'd come to injury and maybe even death – for both of them.

Hastily pushing away the fear, she flew down and landed beside Red Tornado as he appeared, carrying an injured guard towards the group on the beach.

"Where do you need me?" She asked once the robot had noticed her.

"The attackers appear to be retreating." He responded. "You must help retrieve the prisoners and guards still inside the building."

"Do you know how many are-"

The sound of something large breaking the sound barrier made them all look towards the sky. Five ships, identical to the one that had required their most powerful player, Supergirl, to keep under control, came from above. Morgan felt an unpleasant chill run down her spine at the sight. They had slowed significantly and were now looming closer with an almost ominous casualty, as if they already knew they'd won.

"You have to call for backup." She turned to Red Tornado as black clad soldiers started swarming out of the ships like ants, their numbers far too great for the squad of half a dozen heroes.

"I will contact the Watchtower at once." Red Tornado said. "You must gather the others."

Morgan turned away from him and watched the approaching enemy. With a few resolute steps, a pounding heart and a hand covering her stomach protectively, she rose into the sky. Pressing a finger to her ear, she spoke into her comm. "Guys.. we've got a situation."

* * *

S'up! Look a new chapter again. I feel so productive these days (and then I realize it's been a month since I last updated and I'm stumped bc I could've sworn it was two weeks ago or something, why)

Also, a thing I forgot to mention in the last chapter: I'm not sure if this is even relevant anymore, but apparently netflix is keeping an eye on the viewrates of Young Justice on, and if they notice a large enough interest in the show, they may buy the rights to it and make a **third season.** So for anyone with a netflix account, you should absolutely go and bingewatch the show - even if you just let it run on mute in a separate browser, it'll still count as views, and you'll show your interest and appreciation for the show. My american friend is using my netflix account to watch the show rn because they don't have it on Danish netflix but I still really want to support this cause.

Funfact: If they make a third season, there's a.. 1000% chance that I'll write a fic based on that, incorporating Morgan like I did in Feathers.


	27. Damian

**Chapter Twenty Seven: Damian**

* * *

Rocket had just thrown the last unconscious adversary onto their neatly collected pile, when Dick got the distress call from Black Canary.

Contrary to usual procedure, the attack in Gotham had been one of the mild ones of the bunch. Batman had contacted the Watchtower a few minutes ago to let them know his squad was finishing up. He had felt pride swell in his chest at a smoothly gone mission. He had lead them flawlessly, a testament to his training and skills. For a brief, glorious moment, he had felt like he was back at the Team, back to being the teenage leader of the young team – back to being Nightwing. The short moment had only served to leave behind an unpleasant taste in his mouth once reality pulled him back with unforgiving, cold fingers. Robin had soared by him, his brutal fight style and snarling face reminding Dick that it wasn't Tim – or Jason – and he wasn't Nightwing. He was Batman, and that was Damian, the son of the dead Batman. And neither of them were okay.

A myriad of thoughts had started intruded on his mind, weed and vines slipping through the cracks and crowding his consciousness, but Dick pushed them back for now. He was on a mission, he was leading a squad, and he couldn't afford to get lost in his own head in the middle of the whole ordeal. He promised the intruding thoughts that he would consider them later, when he was alone, and they back off graciously, letting him focus on his work.

They'd finished up ten minutes later, and then he got the call from Black Canary.

"Batman, your squad is needed elsewhere. The team on Alcatraz is overrun."

It took Dick's mind a moment to connect the dots. He'd already ordered the squad towards the Zeta tube and plotted in their destination before he realized Morgan was on that island. For a second, he almost considered insisting he needed to stay behind and help the police deal with arresting the attackers, but he quickly realized two things: All the thugs had been knocked unconscious and posed no threat at all, and Black Canary would know this and not consider it a good enough excuse. And at hearing her team was in trouble, he'd felt a stab of worry, for all of them – yes, even Guy Gardener.

The muscles in his jaw worked as he stepped through, but all thoughts of complicated work-relationships flew out the window the second he found himself on the other side, on Alcatraz Island.

Their squad had touched ground only feet from the scared group of prisoners and guards, and Red Tornado who was protecting them.

"Red," Batman called to gain his attention. Two flyers had crash landed on the beach, and soldiers by the dozen were pouring out. Above, some of the airborne heroes were trying to contain the flow of people from the remaining flyers. He saw Supergirl and Green Lantern attack a ship from two sides, the hull denting. "Where do you need us?"

"Keep our enemies contained and away from the civilians." Red Tornado ordered. "Green Lantern has figured out a way to make their flyers malfunction to strand them on the beach – the soldiers inside still needs to be dealt with, however," Batman gave him a nod and turned towards his team.

"Blue Beetle and Martian Manhunter, you're air support," he said, "Rocket, Robin and Green Arrow – we're on ground." He had more he wanted to say before they jumped into the fray, but his eyes, having wandered around the battlefield to scope out their odds, found Sparrow. Her large wings stuck out in the mass of bodies, a dead giveaway, and as he watched, she leapt up a large boulder in three steps, using it to tackle an enemy from above. There was a fierce and determined glint in her eyes. The wind whipped at curls rapidly escaping from a messy braid, framing her face. Her foe fell to the ground and she rolled off his back, landing in a crouch before using her telekinesis to take out a man who'd attempted to sneak up on Aqualad.

Batman, realizing he'd been silent for enough seconds for it to be noticeable, looked at his team with a grim face. "Go!"

They ran towards the battle and Dick made a mental note to keep an eye out for Damian, both for his sake and their enemies'.

A new wave of soldiers had emerged from the wrecked ships on the beach. They set up a line, the front row crouching down with shields. The row behind them started firing rapidly and all the heroes duck for cover. Batman lunged and managed to snag the end of Robin's cape, dragging the protesting boy with him behind a chunk of broken, smoking wall. Looking towards the top of the hill dominating the small island, he saw the prison in shambles. The wall they were hiding behind had surely ended up on the beach from an explosion, if the scorch marks were anything to go by.

Damian was scowling at him, looking every inch like Bruce's son, but Dick shot back a look just as dark. "Robin, work smart, not hard. You won't be of much help if you get shot."

Grumbling, Damien readjusted his cape but didn't answer, which was as close to an agreement as Dick was going to get.

An explosion overhead made them duck further down, even as Dick had to fight the instinct to peak over their hideout and make sure Mo-_everyone else_ was okay. The second the fire died down, he looked up, using the brief disorientation the explosion had caused to launch himself over their hiding place and towards the enemy. Smoke covered his movements. Ducking down behind a rock much closer to the wall of firing soldiers, he did a quick headcount. A body appearing by his side assured him that Robin had followed.

"Robin, the second the smoke clears, the enemy will have a clear shot at us so we've gotta act fast-"

"Uh.."

With a deep, internal sigh, Batman looked to the heavens and wondered why fate kept trying him so.

Sparrow looked just as, if not more, uncomfortable with the situation when she realized the person she'd been crouching next to apparently hadn't been who she thought.

"I thought you were Zatanna.." she admitted after seconds of silence.

"I thought you were Robin," He said, the words leaving his mouth before he had time to consider them.

They shared a short look, and Dick was surprised at how nervous and _sad_ she seemed. He got no satisfaction from her reaction, but he also realized with a twinge of regret that he only had himself to blame. He couldn't exactly fault her for being nervous around him, giving the way he'd been treating her for some time.

But then, he argued with himself, he'd been fairly civil to her the weeks up to her leaving the manor, hadn't he? He'd started training her again and had let her work with him on tracking Batman's killers. That counted as civil, right?

Of course it did.

Shaking himself out of his moment of inner debate, he realized his distraction had lost him is moment of opportunity, and the smoke had cleared. Looking over Morgan's shoulders, Dick saw Robin and Zatanna also hiding nearby, looking just as surprised at their sudden partner switch.

"Zatanna!" Batman called, hatching a quick plan. "Smoke cover!"

"_Emoks_!" Zatanna immediately called, and white vapor seemed to materialize from her hands, spreading around them at an astounding pace.

"Go from the side. It'll take them longer to aim." He told Sparrow rapidly before once again jumping out of his hiding spot and charging the enemy. An arrow whizzed passed him right as he reached the first soldier of the line, Green Arrow appearing close behind it.

"Persistent buggers, aren't they?"

"It won't do them much good in the end." Dick returned, feeling a small pull on his lips. Green Arrow gave him a wide smirk before disappearing in the smoke again. The surprised shout of an unsuspecting enemy and the _twang_ of a bow sounded a second later.

Batman flew forward and punch a guy in his masked face, throwing his dropped gun into the ocean. Aqualad was standing ankle deep in the waves on the beach, using his magic to directly attack the flyers lying halfway in the water. The splash of the gun drew his attention, but his focus on the ships didn't stray for long. Glowing, unnaturally blue water formed a huge wave and washed over the nearest ship, tipping it over. Distressed calls came from inside.

The smoke obscured Batman's continued view of the ship, and so he duck further into the fog, looking for soldiers that hadn't yet been dealt with. The smoke was clearly magical, because even though it was all around him and he was breathing it in, it didn't burn his throat or sting in his eyes. Though he couldn't see the fights going on, he could easily hear them. The corner of a yellow cape flicked past him and he instantly followed Robin, his protective instinct rearing its head. This was Bruce's son, and he needed to protect him. As he chased after the small, blurred figure, various other shapes came and disappeared in the fog. The cackle of magic from Zatanna, the woosh of Supergirl's red cape above. The grey tip of a wing alerted him to Morgan's whereabouts, but he ignored her in favor of catching up to his sidekick. By the sounds around him, he knew the battle was dying down – it seemed victory would be theirs.

He reached Robin at the same time as a group of soldiers, and with practiced ease, the two of them attacked. Robin grabbed onto his arm, and Batman, knowing what he wanted him to do, slung him forward. Robin landed, boots first, square in the face of a soldier. Dick was kicking the legs out from under one guy as he dodged the shots from another, punching his shooting arm when he got the chance. Eventually, the last soldier lay at their feet, and Dick silently wondered how many of them there were, and for how long they were going to keep coming. At some point during the scuffle, they'd left the cover of smoke behind them and Batman used the opportunity to scout their surroundings. Above, one less flyer was functional. Two were scattered in the waterside and one lay burning in the small stretch of wood on their other side. It must've caused the explosion he'd heard a few minutes earlier, but hadn't been able to see because of the smoke. The fog before them lit up as someone started firing wildly and a large form broke free from the white mass, revealing itself to be Morgan. She stumbled in her haste to get back, beat her wings to stop the fall, and landed on her feet beside the two of them.

The soldier who'd been shooting at her materialized in the smoke, but Zatanna came from behind and muttered a spell that made him drop unconscious. She took a step back from her magical fog and spread her arms wide, her voice crackling like thunder as she said another spell and the smoke dissipated. The disappearing vapor revealed only half a dozen soldiers left. The superheroes closest to them swiftly dealt with the diminishing threat.

"Sparrow." Robin spoke up, the eleven year old sounding impossibly superior in those two syllables alone. "I would have expected nothing less of your team than to need us to come pick up the slack for you."

Sparrow blinked at him behind her mask and Batman saw her shoot a look towards the three ships above as if wondering whether the young boy hadn't actually noticed the armada they were battling.

"Robin," she said, mockingly mimicking his superior tone, though a small, cheeky smile was curling her lips. "You're right – you see, we were struggling before because all we actually needed to help us win was an eleven year old boy."

Robin scoffed and crossed his arms. Sparrow mimicked the motion again and with a flash of surprise and perhaps worry, Dick saw that her hand was crimson with blood. Instinct told him to check the injury out and make sure it wasn't serious, but common sense told him to ignore it, at the very least until the battle was properly over.

"You joke but it doesn't change the fact that you still need the help of 'an eleven year old boy' to beat them." Damian shot back

"True." Morgan looked more amused than annoyed and she ran a hand through her bangs, placing the curls behind her ear. Dick kept in a wince when she got blood in her hair and he suspected she had forgotten the injury for now. "So what do you say? Wanna see who can take out the most guys?"

"You really think me so childish that I'd indulge your stupid game?" Robin scoffed again and Morgan shot Dick an amused look, the first time she'd acknowledged his presence since arriving.

"Fair enough." She shrugged. "We both know Batman would win anyway." With a small grin, she saluted Robin and wandered off again. She only got two steps before another earth shaking explosion went off above them.

Batman almost lost his balance at the force of it, but he stayed upright, looking to the sky. One of the still floating ships above them was on fire and crashing to the ground as its engines went out.

"_Everyone get back!" _He called, though it had hardly been necessary as all heroes were ducking away. He grabbed hold of Robin's shoulder out of pure reflex, shoving him further back. Casting a look behind him, he saw Zatanna leap to catch up to Morgan and the two girls ran side by side, Zatanna clasping Morgan's arm and Morgan wrapping an arm around her stomach.

"The soldiers!" He heard Zatanna cry and Dick realized with a jolt that all the men were going to get crushed underneath the ship unless they did something to stop it. "We have to stop the crash!"

With trepidation, he turned and watched both girls halt in their tracks. He knew they were out of the impact zone of the falling ship, but they were still too close for his comfort. He drew nearer, hoping Robin would stay behind, determined to pull the two women back if they failed to stop the ship. Looking up, he cursed at the sight of their airborne heroes locked in combat with small, alien-looking fighter planes. They couldn't reach the crashing flyer in time, nor notice that it even presented a problem.

With her feet planted firmly on the ground, Morgan raised her arms as she tapped into her telekinesis and zeroed in on the ship. It creaked and ground under her hold and her arms started shaking almost immediately. The ship slowed, but it didn't stop its descent towards the unconscious soldiers. With grit teeth and a furrowed brow, she groaned out, "It's not stopping! Zatanna, I can't hold it on my own."

Zatanna took a deep breath and closed her eyes, holding out flat palms. "_Etativel_ _eht_ _pihs_." Her voiced echoed with magic all around them.

The front of the flyer was enchased in a transparent, purple shield and finally halted, only feet from the ground. A few breathless seconds passed by before any of them moved again. Then, with a gasping breath, Morgan took a shaking step back and slowly started shifting her arms towards the forest. Her whole body seemed to strain from levitating the ship, as if she was actually carrying it in her arms and felt all its weight. Slowly, with a small jerk, the burning ship started moving and floated harmlessly away from the beach and into a stretch of forest that was free of any victims.

Batman chanced a look at the woman standing beside him and was struck for a short moment. Her eyes were shining like blue fires and the stubborn set of her jaw as she refused to release her hold on the ship only made her look that much more powerful and fierce. Her limbs were trembling, but it seemed to be with strength and power, and not something caused from strain. She was stunning for a second and Dick could suddenly remember why he'd been so drawn to her in the first place.

Once it was far enough away, it and Morgan sagged as one. Zatanna also released her levitation spell, and the flyer crashed to the ground, a small explosion going off within. Sparrow didn't fall to the ground as the ship did, but she bent forward and supported her arms on her knees, breathing heavily.

There was silence for a moment as all the heroes on ground started finding each other, shuffling into a group.

"The flyers are taking off!" Kaldur pointed and they all looked up to find the small fighter planes following close behind the last two flyers as they all but fled. Perplexed, Supergirl, Martian Manhunter, Blue Beetle and Green Lantern hovered in the air for a moment before dropping down to meet the others.

"We won?" Green Arrow shouldered his bow, dirty and out of breath.

"We won," Martian Manhunter confirmed. His rumbling voice was as calm as ever, a contrast to Green Arrow's rasping breath.

"Thank god," Morgan murmured under her a breath, and Batman saw Zatanna offer her a smile before briefly squeezing her shoulder. He asked himself when the two of them had apparently become best friends.

A gunshot went off behind them. All heroes turn as one, Blue Beetle loudly exclaiming, "What now?"

Batman honestly wasn't sure if he should be surprised or not at the sight of the prisoners revolting, now that there were no more people trying to kill them. But that was exactly what was happening. Prisoners were wrestling with guards for the guns they carried, the prison warden was screaming at all of them and Red Tornado was doing his best to contain the chaos.

"You've got to be kidding me," Zatanna sighed. "And after all the trouble we went through to save them.."

The sound of another gunshot cracked through the air like a whip, followed shortly by a scream. Immediately pushed into action, the group of nine ran towards the commotion before more people got hurt. The prisoners were starting to overrun the guards and there were too many of them for Red Tornado to manage at once. Green Lantern sent a dozen ropes shooting towards the mass and they automatically wrapped around a prisoner each, letting them fall to the ground. They reached the chaos and immediately attacked, working more on subduing than actually harming.

Batman felt more frustrated than anything. First they'd had to fend off invasions of not one, but _two _high security prisons, and _now_ they were fighting the people they'd been protecting a moment ago. It had been a long day.

In the end, the inmates were outmatched and outclassed by the group of ten superheroes and remaining prison guards. The fight, though more of a scuffle in Dick's opinion, lasted for no longer than five minutes and then all prisoners were tied up and on the ground.

The warden, a man Batman hadn't taken much notice of so far, only allowed them three seconds of collecting themselves after the finished brawl.

"Who let the prisoners out of the cells?" He asked sharply, eyeing each hero like he wanted to lock them up as well. His blonde mustache seemed to tremble with fury. "_Well_?"

"I did."

Batman closed his eyes in resignation. Not at the fact that_ of course _Morgan had been the one to let them out, but because her snapping, defensive voice spoke of an oncoming shouting match with the warden if someone didn't stop them.

"_Are you_ _insane_?" The warden took large steps towards the much smaller woman, who didn't back down in the slightest, choosing to square her shoulders and cross her arms instead. Dick felt his hackles rise at the large man walking towards Morgan with aggression in every step. Some protective instincts he told himself meant nothing. "There's a reason those criminals are in cells, missy!"

Sparrows eyes widened dangerously and her lips curled downwards. "Excuse me?" she asked, too calmly.

_Here we go.._ Dick mentally sighed.

"Those _people_ were all sitting ducks!" She motioned a tense arm towards the burning, wrecked prison above them to emphasize her point. "They would've all been _dead_ if I hadn't freed them!"

"Only the warden has the authority to let the prisoners out!" He shouted back. His face was getting comically red and a vein on his neck was popping out, nearly blue. Now, his mustache really _was _twitching. The arguing pair made Batman think of fighting alley cats. "One of my men just got shot because you decided to play hero!"

"_Play hero?"_ Morgan all but spluttered at his phrasing, her hands clenching at her sides. Dick almost winced. "Alright listen here you bullying, arrogant _walrus!" _

Batman knew this was about to get ugly, and he knew letting a fellow superhero blow up on a prison warden would reflect badly on the League. He told himself these were his reasons for swiftly stepping between the two of them, pushing Morgan back with an arm across her chest – ignoring that he was practically copping a feel – and raising the other to make sure the warden didn't get any closer. The movement had been so fast the pair of them looked truly surprised at his interference.

"Sparrow is right," he said firmly, his voice rumbling from the stern tone. "As the warden, it was your responsibility to order evacuation the second the prison came under attack. Several prisoners have lost their lives today and you've failed your job of not only managing them but also keeping them safe."

The warden looked significantly less angry now that he was being stared down by a six foot two inch Batman instead of a five foot one Sparrow.

There was a short silence in which Dick was distinctly aware of everyone staring at the three of them as the dawning realization that he'd just stepped in to defend Morgan hit him. The warden seemed to be trying to figure out what he was supposed to do now and after a moment of unintelligible but clearly angry spluttering, he finally backed off.

"Just help me get the prisoners off this blasted island and I'll let it slide."

Batman almost scoffed at the notion that the warden had the power to demand anything of them, but he decided to be the better person.

"Agreed. I presume you've contacted an extraction crew?"

The warden nodded, his pale green eyes studying Batman and the suddenly quiet hero behind him with apparent interest. Dick realized he was still standing squarely between the two of them with an arm holding Morgan back protectively. He quickly straightened.

"They'll be here any minute." The warden gruffly answered at length before turning on his heel and marching away, head held high as if he'd just won the argument.

"Thanks." Sparrow sounded genuine, and Batman chanced a look at her. "For getting him off my back:"

"You're welcome," he replied quickly before walking off to meet up with Robin. Somehow, he couldn't be bothered to give her the cold shoulder. Dick felt like a bubble was growing in his chest, a bubble comprised entirely of racing thoughts that he needed to sort out. But he couldn't allow himself to be distracted right now, so though he felt like his mind was about to enter a frenzy, he forced it into a fake calm. He'd perfected the art of pushing back personal issues to deal with at a later time perfectly years ago, and it was no less difficult now. Other people needed him to be alert, and he couldn't let himself be distracted. He was Batman right now – he couldn't allow Dick Grayson's problems to overshadow. "Red Tornado," he approached the other hero once he'd found Robin and knew he was fine. Not that Dick doubted that Damian could take care of himself, but a lot of the thoughts currently rummaging around in the back of his mind had to do with the kid, so he needed the extra reassurance. "The warden says the evac team will be here any minute. Do you need any of my team to stay behind and watch over the process?"

"No," the robot replied, "My team thanks you for your assistance, but we can handle the rest. You can return to the Watchtower."

Batman gave him a curt nod and gathered his team. "Black Canary?" he spoke into his comm. "We're ready to get back."

The squad was standing on a platform in the Watchtower no less than ten seconds later.

"Good work everyone." He was compelled to tell them that he'd appreciated working with them. "Thank you for trusting me to lead you.. it meant a lot." He made sure his face was blank, but that his voice conveyed that he really meant it.

Green Arrow gave him a smile that was.. proud? He looked like a father whose child had just won a test of some sort.

"Robin," Dick placed a hand on the young boy's shoulders. "Let's go."

Damian took wide steps to stay beside him, something Dick had noticed he always did. The boy didn't like to follow behind other people. Either he walked beside them, or he lead them. They passed Black Canary and Batman paused to give her a nod and a small smile. Dinah responded with a fond smile of her own.

"Good job," she mouthed before walking off. Somehow, breathing felt easier afterwards.

* * *

The Batcave felt cold and dark compared to the Watchtower. Dick suspected the liveliness of the space station, the hustle and bustle of heroes was what made it seem more homely, less.. sad.

The Cave held many, many memories, and a good portion of them were bad. And yet, a good portion of them were also good. Phantom laughter rang in his ears as Dick looked towards the stairs and remembered bouncing down them as a child, a bright yellow cape following in his wake. He could almost perfectly recall Bruce's indulgent but nonetheless exasperated eyes follow his doings.

Getting up from the chair he'd been brooding in, Dick moved towards the utility storage. Taking off his belt, he restocked it with batarangs and smoke bombs. He didn't like to be idle. Recalling the dozens of times he'd walked down here to find Bruce sitting in that chair to brood, Dick knew he hadn't ever thought he'd find himself doing the very same thing a few years later. He had always liked to tell himself that he wasn't like Bruce, but the truth was that perhaps the two of them weren't all that different.

Still, Dick preferred to work on something else as he brooded. And so he checked and double checked the utility belt before heading for his work table to fiddle with a pair of tracers that had started acting out yesterday. They hadn't been in use, but they'd activated by themselves and continuously sent the Batcomputer their location even though they were safely inside the Batcave.

He let his mind roam as he started taking the delicate electronics apart, hoping it was a fixable issue.

Something in his mind had all but rebooted on their mission earlier today, and Dick had been forced to admit a harsh truth.

He was failing Damian.

Whether it was healthy or not, Dick had always been good at ignoring his own issues in favor of helping others, but in this one instance he'd failed horribly at doing that. He'd been so wrapped in his own personal grief to remember the responsibility he had to the boy. He suspected some part of his psyche – perhaps his common sense – had gotten fried during the trauma of pulling his adopted father's corpse from a burning building. Superheroes were supposed to be tough, and he _was. _He was tough, but he wasn't invincible. And that night had done a number on him. He still had the nightmares to prove it. But that didn't excuse the fact that a young kid had needed him, and he'd ignored it.

Damian had been ten before he'd even gotten to meet his father. And then he and Bruce had gotten to spend almost a year together. But because both of them were infuriatingly complicated, they hadn't even started to form a true father-son connection until a few months before That Night. Damian had known Bruce for eleven months, but he'd only known his _father_ for three. Dick remembered how, only a week before he'd died, Bruce had been telling him about how he and Damian had gone to a baseball game together and Damian had smiled as their team won.

Dick dropped the tiny screwdriver he'd been using and took a step back. Running a hand through his hair, he hissed with frustration at himself, at Bruce, at _everything._ Looking down at his own body, he suddenly felt all wrong in the Batman suit. He often felt wrong in it – the cape was too restricting, the utility belt too heavy and the cowl too tight. But now he felt like the symbol on his chest was burning though the fabric and branding his skin, like the gloves were cutting off the blood to his hands, like the very suit was shrinking, capturing him like a snare, and he needed to get it off, off, _off. _

Contrary to what his treacherous mind was telling him, the suit didn't feel tighter at all as he shrugged it off. Relishing in the crisp night air on his bare skin, he waited a few minutes before putting on a pair of pants.

Damian had been showing many signs of improving, back when Bruce had truly started stepping into his role as his father. He'd stopped acting like everyone was beneath him. He'd indulged some of Dick attempts to get him to behave like a kid.

And then Bruce had died. And Damian had..

He hadn't gone back to killing, like Dick would've guessed his reaction should've been. He'd gone quiet. He'd started following orders without complaint. He'd stopped mocking people – ok, mostly stopped.

The point was, Damian hadn't reacted with violence and anger. He'd retreated into himself. He'd become the perfect soldier. The perfect Robin. He'd started working with the Team. He'd stopping sneaking out on the nights Batman bade him to stay inside, something that had always frustrated Bruce.

Dick would've almost considered this a good thing. Damian was still arrogant, he was still quick to scoff at people and he still considered himself better than the majority of people he came across on a daily basis. But he was maturing. He was finally behaving like the Robin Bruce had hoped he would become. And for all outwards appearances, it was a good change.

But Dick realized it was fueled by a child trying to live up his dead father's demands. Damian had failed to follow Bruce's orders when he was alive, and now he was trying to make up for it by honoring them in his death.

It was all fueled by guilt.

And Dick knew better than anyone that guilt would devour you from the inside if you let it.

When was the last time he'd tried talking to Damian as his big brother and not as Batman? When was the last time he'd offered him a compliment, a positive word? And even worse – when had he offered Damian a word of encouragement in a matter that hadn't concerned being Robin? Had he ever payed Damian a compliment on something as mundane as a painting, or as important as good behavior or character growth?

When, in the past nine months since Bruce's death, had Dick truly _seen _Damian? Taken the time to make sure the boy was doing ok? Asked him about homework? Offered to _talk?_

.. Speaking of that guilt that would devour you from the inside, Dick was feeling it now.

And not just Damian.. When had he last had a normal conversation with Tim? Thanked Alfred for dinner?

..

Really, they'd all been right. All the times Connor or Dinah had bugged him about coming to the Watchtower more often, all the times Tim or Alfred had remarked on him not eating regularly. Whenever Barbara or M'gann had insisted shutting them out wasn't going to help him.

And Dick had known he was in the wrong, but he'd been angry and in mourning. And then it had become an unhealthy habit. It had been easy to regard the world with bitterness and disappointment instead of trying to pull himself out of his slump.

Well, no more. That one mission with the League had reminded him of how things had been before. Back when he'd had a team – back when he'd been part of a group of heroes that supported and cared deeply for one another. He had felt close to his old self again. He'd almost felt like Nightwing.

He had realized how much he missed it. He missed working together with people. He missed chatting with other heroes at the Watchtower before or after a mission. He missed _belonging._

At this point, he figured stubbornness was the biggest reason he kept secluding himself. Stubbornness and the fear that, given the way he'd been behaving, the others wouldn't want him around anymore.

Dick knew he'd have to start trying again. He would join the League more often. He would try to reconnect with Damian, Tim and Alfred. He would put an effort into rebuilding all the relationships he'd let rot in the last nine months. It was going to be hard, but he had to do something, lest he waste away completely. He was tired of feeling miserable. The decision made him feel lighter, like his body was close to floating. He was still burdened and he wasn't close to being okay. But the first step towards recovery was always admitting you have a problem.

And Dick had a problem – one he was going to try to fix.

And he knew just were to start.

* * *

Um, so... hi?

You guys, I'm so so so so so so sorry this took me so long to get out. My second semester at uni is finally over, and for the first time in months I feel like I can breathe freely again. I have two months of summer vacation and little to no plans, so I hope to once again submerge myself in Broken Wings and start writing for real.

Anyways, holy character development Batman! (I think we were all starting to get tired of Angsty Grayson™) I'm personally excited to see how Dick is gonna fare now that he's decided to do something about himself. The chapter was named Damian bc, unwittingly, Damian is the one that triggered Dick's sudden self-awareness.

Fun fact: My old roomie and one of my other friends both got married within a month of each other and all these weddings are making me feel SO SINGLE. IM SO SINGLE U GUYS. (My self pity makes me want to write more on BW bc there I can atleast make my angst useful, so I guess it's not a total loss.)


	28. Midnight Talks

**Chapter Twenty Eight: Midnight Talks**

* * *

September 7th.

It was a little past midnight before Morgan got home. Despite the late hour, both her mom and grandma were still up. Waiting for her – worrying for her.

Morgan knew a 'well meaning' conversation was about to unfold. The second she'd stepped into the house and saw the two of them watching her silently from the living room, she'd known.

"Morgan dear," her mom said softly and Morgan felt irritation bubble up in her chest almost immediately. "Can you come sit?"

She knew what they were going to say. And anything they told her were things she already knew – things she had already thought about. They could bring nothing new to the table. Whatever guilt they would try to force on her, she had already laid on herself. Whatever reasoning they'd planned out, she'd already told herself the same things.

Nobody had the ability to make Morgan feel shittier about herself than she did.

She wanted to say no. She wanted to say she was tired. They could talk in the morning. They could talk _never. _Because she _knew. _She already _knew _it was irresponsible. She knew she was tempting fate. But her mom looked so sad and her grandmother was sipping her tear and refusing to meet Morgan's eyes.

Feeling weary to her core, she put down the duffle bag with her costume and shuffled into the living room. Slumping into the armchair furthest from the two women, she instantly regretted it when they both started studying her from across the coffee table. If she'd sat beside her grandmother, she could've at least pretended to not notice her in her peripheral vision.

A minute passed by in which they both continued to look very sad and Morgan was starting to feel very annoyed.

"Can you please just say what you gotta say so I can sleep?" She sighed, leaning back and resigning herself to half an hour of listening. She knew she should just let them say their part, because no amount of reassuring or talking from her would stop them. They'd probably spent all evening practicing this speech of theirs and, by god, she was going to hear it whether she want to or not, even if it wasn't necessary.

"Sweetheart, we're just worried.. We know what you're doing is dangerous and we don't want you to put the baby at risk."

_Oh my GOD, so not the right thing to say, _Morgan felt all mental shields go up as her mom proceeded to say _exactly _what Morgan had known she was going to say. She'd resigned herself to just letting them talk, but her mom had managed to say the entirely wrong thing.

"Mom, just.. Please shut up?" She wasn't sure if she felt more angry or frustrated. There was a lump in her throat that wouldn't let up, and it seemed be made of acid she couldn't force back into her stomach. "I _know, _okay? I know. But I.. I just gotta do _something _with my life!"

"What do you mean?" Her grandmother, as usual as sharp as a knife, instantly picked up on the deeper meaning of what Morgan was saying.

Feel antsy, Morgan got up from her chair and started pacing. The urge to pull on her hair until it hurt was overwhelming.

"I just.. _Urgh!"_ She paced around twice in a small circle before stopping to face the two elder women. "I'm a twenty one year old, pregnant, unemployed college dropout! What am I _doing_ with my life? I let myself get impregnated on a one night stand with a guy that won't even talk to me, I won't be able to get a job as long as I'm with child – who's gonna hire me? Without a job, I won't be able to pay for college even though I might want to go back and study again. I mean, sure, dad's life insurance and the money I saved from working at Wayne Manor is enough to support me through the pregnancy, but then what? Do I work as a cashier? A waitress? I have no education. How will I ever afford to support both me and a child? I live with my _mom_ for God's sake!" She definitely felt like that lump in her throat was starting to choke her now. Tears were threatening to spill. Morgan was seized by a hopelessness she'd never felt before and she felt trapped, like she had no options in life. Her future seemed dark and without promise. She fell back into her armchair, placing her elbows on her knees. Staring stiffly at her hands, she was silent for a moment as she tried to reign in her runaway emotions. _It's just pregnancy hormones, _she tried to convince herself. "The _only _thing I seem to be good for is being Sparrow. If I can't do that.. then what am I? I'm just a burden on society. A burden on _you._"

"Morgan!" her mom sounded aghast and hurried over in her wheelchair. Abigail wrapped her arms around her, and the young hero felt the first tear slip. The rhythmic strokes over her dirty hair made Morgan feel slightly better, but it didn't do much more than take the top off of her misery. Eventually, Abigail pulled back and gave her a stern look before smiling softly. "My sweet, you will _never _be a burden to me, you hear?" She waited for Morgan to nod slowly before continuing. "You quit your job just to come here and take care of me. If anything, I'm the burden."

"If you two are about to start a guilt off, I'm going to bed." Victoria interrupted what had totally been a 'no, _I'm_ the burden' response from Morgan.

"Sorry." She offered her grandmother a wet smile. "I'd blame the pregnancy hormones if these weren't one hundred percent legit worries of mine. I want to give my child the best chances in life, but I already feel like I'm failing."

"Morgan.. couldn't contacting the father help?" Abigail suggested slowly, seeming very cautious about bringing him up again. Abigail hadn't tried to talk about the unknown father since Victoria had asked Morgan the day she'd arrived. Honestly, Morgan had known it had only been a matter of time before they would ask again. "He's responsible for this too, after all."

Morgan chuckled flatly. "Trust me, that guy has enough on his plate as it is.."

"Well, surely he can't be _that_ busy?" Victoria drew out the question. They were so obviously fishing for a name. Morgan knew they were dying to know who it was.

She couldn't tell them it was Dick Grayson. Her mom knew the guy was involved with both of Morgan's personas. If she mentioned Dick, Abigail might guess he was a superhero too. Morgan couldn't betray him like that. She couldn't hand out his secret to other people.

However, although it probably wouldn't thrill either woman that Morgan had had sex with _Batman_ – probably mostly because they thought Batman was a forty-something man – this information didn't compromise any secret identities. She could tell them that, right? It wouldn't exactly make _her _look good, but it would protect Dick's identity. And it would give them some sort of answer. It would sate their curiosity.

"It's Nightwing's." She blurted out, because that didn't sound as bad as saying it was Batman's. Everyone knew Nightwing was a young man. Then she immediately backtracked because nobody had seen Nightwing for _months_, and him getting her pregnant raised more questions than it answered. "No, I'm sorry. I'm lying. Technically, it was Batman."

"_What!" _

"But he's _old!"_

..

Morgan wished she'd stuck with Nightwing.

"He's not.. old."

"Not _old?" _Abigail sounded almost hysterical. "He's been patrolling Gotham for fifteen years, and he was a grown man when he started! He's _at least_ forty years old!"

_Forty six actually, if he hadn't died.. _Morgan mentally corrected.

"You don't know the whole story." How much could she tell them without passing on information she didn't have the right to hand out? Or was this situation so bizarre that it gave her a free pass on telling them all the classified stuff? Either way, the instinct to defend her actions forced the words out. Somehow, she couldn't keep the debatably classified information to herself if it meant letting her mom think she'd slept with a forty six year old. She couldn't bear to let assumptions like that slander her mom's opinion of her. "The Batman you know.. He isn't around anymore. He hasn't been for months." Morgan's heart was racing. She was sure the entire League was about to burst into her living room and start shouting at her for telling stuff like this to civilians. But the shocked looks on the elder women's faces bade her continue. She couldn't stop now. "I wasn't actually lying when I said it was Nightwing. After Batman.. left, he took over. He's Batman right now."

"Nighwing.. he was your mentor back when you were on the Team, wasn't he?" Her mom recalled.

"Yeah. We got close. Then, when I came back from Denmark, it just.. happened." Morgan attempted to straddle the line between telling them nothing, and yet just enough to make them think this was the whole story. If she managed to phrase it right, she could make it sound like the two of them had just run into each other at the Watchtower, or in Gotham, every now and then, and then things had escalated from there.

Victoria was silent for once. She knew that Morgan was a superhero and she knew _some _details, but this was something Abigail knew a lot more about than she did. Abigail pursed her lips and nodded silently.

"The Nightwing I remember meeting a few times was such a nice, well-adjusted young man.." she said, "Are you sure he won't help? The boy I met wouldn't think twice about supporting you through all of this."

Morgan was sure her mom didn't know how much her words stung at her insides. _Yes,_ the Nightwing she had known would've absolutely supported her. "That was two years ago.. he's.. he's changed a lot. I don't know how he'll react. I.. _know _I need to tell him. But I find it nearly impossible to muster up the courage."

"We won't pressure you to do it, then." Abigail looked at Victoria, who quickly nodded. "You should do it in your own time. But trust me when I say that, the longer you keep it from him.. Well, it'll be that much harder to explain, right? If you suddenly arrive with a huge stomach, he'll know you've kept it from him for _months._"

Morgan was tempted to mention the charm that was currently keeping her stomach flat, but she knew both women would be _wildly_ disapproving of that little tidbit.

"I will tell him soon. I promise." And she meant it.

Abigail gave her a proud smile that she did her best to return. Her insides were twisting and knotting. She felt nauseous.

"Morgan, I can understand feeling frustrated with not really doing anything." Victoria looked calculatingly at her. "But risking yours and your child's safety for the sake of feeling productive isn't the right way to go about it." There was no hint of a smile on her grandmother's face. Victoria was _not _impressed. The usually carefree and smiling woman looked dead serious and it unsettled Morgan.

"I know." She almost came across as meek in her answer. "And I promise, unless a huge crisis of some kind – the world domination, alien invasion kind of crisis – comes up, I will not touch my Sparrow suit."

"Good." Victoria daintily sipped from her tea. "Now, about feeling useful – you mentioned wanting a job. Perhaps I can help."

Morgan snorted without humor. "Yeah, good luck. Nobody is gonna hire someone that's two months pregnant."

"One of my old friends – we went to school together decades ago – she owns a small bakery." Victoria went on as if she hadn't heard Morgan's negative response. "I had coffee with her recently and she mentioned needing an extra cashier because her one of her usual ones is travelling for the next six months."

Morgan perked up slightly. "So it would be a short term thing? And it wouldn't matter than I'm pregnant?"

"If you want, I can call her tomorrow and ask if she's interested? Marjorie is a very sweet woman, I don't think she'd turn away a pregnant girl in need."

A small glimmer of hope warmed Morgan's insides. If this was a thing that could really happen, it would be _so_ ideal. She'd have something to do besides _moping _and _angsting. _Working as a cashier didn't have to be physically hard. And if she could cheat a bit by using her telekinesis, there would be no trouble at all. And she could earn money for her savings too. "Yeah – Grandma, that would be perfect!"

"Good. That's decided then." Finishing off her tea, Victoria smacked her lips and got up. "Now, I'm off to bed. I haven't been up this late for _months." _

"Me too," Abigail agreed, wheeling herself towards the hall. "Morgan, you should get a shower first. You've got sand all over, and you smell of smoke."

"Of course." She followed in the wake of the two elder women. Knowing she'd have to wait for them to finish their nightly routines before the bathroom was free, she headed for her room. Once Morgan closed the door behind her, she leaned against it, holding in a groan.

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.. _

She had overstepped a line by telling them about the current Batman. She should've just let her mom assume she'd been with the old Batman. It would've been better. Right? She ran her hands over her face and into her hair, clenching fists around her curls

"_Crap_." She sighed, thumping the back of her head against the door. Her heart was pounding again and she really needed to puke, not sure if it was morning sickness or disgust with herself for divulging forbidden information. She'd never done anything like this, ever. She'd always completely respected the boundaries that came with secret identities. Nobody was supposed to know that Batman had died. And though she hadn't explicitly said he was dead – well, 'not around' wasn't difficult to interpret.

She heard her grandmother shuffle to her own room, the door closing behind her. Knowing the bathroom was free, Morgan got out and darted to it, making sure to lock the door behind her before she found the toilet and bent over it.

Puking was a difficult thing to do silently, but she managed by sheer force of will because she didn't want anyone to hear. She didn't need either of the other women to come help her. She needed to be alone right now.

She stood in the shower for a long time, partly because she really _was _dirty and it took forever to get the sand out of her hair, and partly because the hot water pounding on her skin was like a balm. The water wasn't just wiping away the grime and sweat, but also her worries and anxieties – at least for the night. It had a calming effect she knew she'd need if she was going to fall asleep tonight.

The clock on her nightstand was pushing one AM when she returned to her room. Shrugging out of her towel to wrap it around her damp hair, Morgan was about to pull on the _extremely _fluffy bathrobe she'd gotten from her _Farmor_ on her twentieth birthday, when her reflection in the floor length mirror made her pause.

Straightening to her full height, she placed a hesitant hand on her stomach. She took care to use the hand that hadn't gotten injured. She'd gotten it bandaged at the Watchtower, but she hadn't bothered to keep it dry during her shower and it was now damp and tinted red from small spots of blood mingled with water. Her hand was sore and throbbed every now and then, and she knew she'd have to change the gauze before going to bed. However, right now, her injured hand was the furthest thing from her mind.

She was starting to show.

It wasn't much yet, but her stomach was definitely bulging in a way it hadn't been a month ago. She flattened her palm completely against the bump, surprised at how firm it felt. She'd almost expected it to feel like it was just a fat roll, but this wasn't nearly as soft.

_God dammit, are you crying _again_? _

She groaned to herself and walked away from the mirror in protest, pulling on her robe and tying the sash tighter than it needed to be. She sat so heavily on her bed, the springs bounced. Staring into space for a moment, she was just about to make the decision to go to bed, when there was a small knock on her window.

Morgan dismissed it at a branch knocking against her window because of the swift autumn wind that had been blowing through Gotham all day. Or maybe it was just the rain pattering against the glass.

But then it sounded again.

Turning in her seat, Morgan felt her anxiety levels spike by about a thousand percent.

Batman was standing outside her window.

Holy _Fuck. _

Had he seen anything? _Had he seen her study her stomach in the mirror in a distinctly 'I'm pregnant!' kind of way? _

Was he here to tell her he'd had the house under surveillance this whole time, and, frankly, he wasn't impressed with her blathering his secrets to her elder relatives?

_Shit, shit, shitty shit shit – _

_Ok, keep calm, Morgan. _

Houston, we have a problem.

At seeing him, her brain had shut down for about ten seconds, and she'd stared at him – perhaps open mouthed? Her face had gone numb so she wasn't entirely sure – for all of that time. Her eyes were starting to hurt from being so wide.

He was looking less and less impressed by the second.

She leapt off her bed and all but flew to the window, opening the latch. He opened the window fully by himself and slipped inside. It would've almost been comical to see his large form trying to squeeze through her small window, but there wasn't anything remotely funny about this situation.

"Wha-?" was all her mouth could muster up. She supposed it was better than intelligible noises.

Wait.. She was in her _bathrobe! _

And she wasn't _wearing her charm! _

_No! no no no noooooooo- _

_Alright_, she sternly thought at herself. _Keep calm. You're barely showing, and the bathrobe is hiding it. You'll be fine. Just. Just _chill. _Be cool. _

"Why are you here?" Was that aggression in her voice? She sure hoped not. Her heart was racing and she beyond stressed out, but she wasn't _angry_. Dick had gotten so good at being angry, she felt it was unnecessary for her to be so as well.

He looked as close to uncomfortable as Morgan had seen him since coming to back America. She suspected he would've shuffled his feet if he hadn't mastered such a steely grip on his composure.

"I.." He took a step further into the room and Morgan instinctively jumped back to give him space. She feared him getting too close now that she wasn't wearing her charm. She wished she could've sneaked across the room to put it on, but he'd notice, and he'd know she wasn't putting on jewelry for the sake of aesthetics. "I didn't get to talk to you after the mission today."

_Uh? _

"I mean, I have a _specific_ thing I need to talk to you about – not just talking in general." He was very tense, but not in the way he'd been for months. This was different, like he was tense because he was trying to not be mean instead of being tense because of anger. Morgan wondered what was going on – what had happened within the last few hours for him to behave so differently?

Not that she was complaining. Yet. However, she still wasn't sure exactly what was going on, so she'd hold back the verdict.

"Right. What's up?" Whatever he needed to talk to her about was important enough for him to seek her out at her mom's house in the middle of the night – and the thought worried her.

Dick was silently staring at the floor between them, his jaw working and his eyes filled with lightning. They seemed to flash as he looked up at her and then at her bandaged hand. "Give me your hand," he demanded, holding out his own.

Morgan cast an eye on the damp, stained bandage, flexing her fingers on reflex. Slowly, she placed her hand in his palm, her fingertips brushing against his pulse. His own digits seemed to spasm automatically at the sudden contact, but he quickly cleared his throat and stepped forward, bending closer to the injured hand. Nimble fingers quickly undid the clasp holding the gauze in place and he started unwrapping it.

Morgan swallowed down the urge to pull her hand back and demand to know why he was really here – because, obviously, he hadn't come all the way just to check on a small injury. She knew there was something else, but she also knew he must've been leading up to it. She doubted he was stalling because he needed to pluck up the courage; cowardice had never been one of his traits. Rather, he seemed to be gathering his thoughts.

"If you're going to check on my injury," she was surprised at how breathless she sounded, "I'd like to sit. I'm exhausted."

He looked at her face briefly before nodding and dropping her hand. Heading for her bed, Morgan watched as he closed the curtains behind them. He headed for her door and made sure it was locked. Morgan's heart seemed to stutter at the action. Unconsciously, she pulled her bathrobe tighter around herself. He hovered by the door for a moment, angling away from her. The room felt heavy with an atmosphere Morgan couldn't discern. She studied his profile as he slowly pulled back the cowl, rain water dribbling from his form onto the floor. No lights were on and the lamppost outside was hindered by the drawn curtain. The room was bathed in shadows, and they seemed thickest around Batman, as if darkness itself sprang from his form. For a moment, she could truly see why criminals and civilians alike shrunk away from him.

Morgan's fingers fumbled with the light switch, and then a second later, her bed lamp turned on, driving some of the shadows at bay. The room was tinted orange from the ugly lampshade, Dick's revealed face turning golden in the light. He turned from the door and came towards her, pausing by her small desk to grab the chair beside it.

Good. She wasn't going to let him sit on her bed next to her.

As he sat down, he drew a deep breath that Morgan was almost tempted to call a sigh. This time, when he wordlessly held out his hand, she didn't hesitate in handing him hers. He finished unwrapping the used gauze and inspected the dozen shallow cuts on both sides. The movement made her hand start pounding with dull pain again. His thumb ran over a particularly tender cut and pressed down on it lightly. A hiss escaped her mouth before she had the chance to stop it. Dick looked briefly at her face before gingerly continuing his scrutiny.

He wasn't wearing any gloves.

She wasn't sure how she'd failed to notice it before now, but the sensation of his calloused fingers on her skin was so familiar that the detail demanded her attention. She felt like she was burning with anticipation. Confusion from his behavior, coupled with the knowledge that he was leading up to some sort of _speech_ made her fight against fidgeting in her seat.

"How did it happen?" he asked.

Morgan shrugged, allowing a small dark-humored smile to break through. "I punched a window."

He looked at her with something that almost resembled fond exasperation. Then, without a word, he pulled clean gauze from a pouch in his belt and started wrapping up her hand again.

"Dick," Morgan finally plucked up the courage – or perhaps she just couldn't bear to drag this out anymore. "why are you here?"

His attention didn't waver from the work he was doing and Morgan was almost sure he'd ignore her question, no matter how direct it had been.

"Look," he finally spoke up, but stopped after that one word again, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he looked away. Closing his eyes, Dick drew a deep breath and then squarely met her gaze. "We're still working together on tracking the Riddler's clues, right? Just because you don't live at the manor anymore doesn't necessarily mean that deal is out too."

Morgan couldn't have been more surprised if he'd gotten up and started breakdancing. Her brain hummed with a myriad of thoughts and the emotions that came with. Her first instinct was to get angry – he had treated her crap for weeks and _now _after she'd left, he suddenly wanted to make it right again?

And then she realized this was basically exactly what she'd been working towards for all those weeks. _This _was Dick showing progress, showing a willingness to cooperate. A cautious happiness swelled in her stomach. She couldn't be sure what had caused this new development, but she was willing to accept it. She'd latch onto it like an octopus and never let go.

And then dread reared its ugly head as she recalled the baby bump she'd been cradling ten minutes ago. She'd sworn she wouldn't unnecessarily endanger her or the child. She'd promised her mother and grandmother only an hour ago. She'd sworn she wouldn't go near the suit unless a true crisis came up.

Steely resolve took over next. If she went through with this – would it make it easier to cement Dick's influence in their child's life? If she worked with him now, would it mean he was involved once the kid was born?

Honestly, did she get the luxury of not at least trying? So far, the stuff they'd been doing with the Riddler hadn't been that dangerous. If she was extra careful and let Dick take care of the most dangerous guys, it could work out. Right?

_God, I'm such an idiot. _

"If you don't want me to stop joining, then I won't mind still tagging along." She answered as neutrally as possible.

He nodded hesitantly at first and then with more conviction. "Good. I'll contact you whenever I hear anything from him."

"Okay."

Dick gave her one last nod and then got up, heading for the window. Their little midnight rendezvous was apparently over.

"Dick?" she called. He paused with his hands on the cowl, turning towards her.

She met his eyes and they looked very blue in contrast to his golden tinged skin. For a moment, she was tempted more than ever to let him know what was going on. What was currently happening inside her body. She imagined how easy it would be to just blurt it out. Right now. Now that they were alone and not angry with each other. Just get it over with. The sight of him standing here, looking expectantly at her, made it nearly impossible to keep her tongue from running loose. He deserved to know. He had no idea of what was truly going on, but he _deserved_ to know.

But she took the urge and locked it inside a deep part of her subconscious. Now, after so many weeks of no progress, Dick finally looked like he was getting better. If she told him now, it would.. _ruin _all of that.

So instead, she sighed and shook her head. "Just because I don't live at the manor anymore doesn't mean I don't care." She wasn't sure if that had been a stupid thing to say, but his face revealed nothing. "Promise you'll contact me the moment anything happens on the case. Even a small thing. I want to be involved."

He only gave her a short nod for an answer and then pulled the cowl back in place.

A moment later, he was gone. Morgan slumped on her bed, feeling like she'd just run a marathon. Getting up again, she shuffled towards the window and closed it after him. Unable to stop herself, she peeked out at the street, hoping against hope to catch a short glimpse of him.

As she'd already known, he was long gone. Morgan was questioning why she'd even bothered to look for him when another thing caught her attention. There was a small alley across the street from her window. It lead into a small courtyard, the result of a failed attempt at making a patch of nature for the benefit of the surrounding apartment buildings. The streetlamp was broken, the light flickering on and off every few seconds.

As she watched, the light switched off and a dark shadow passed under it, turning the corner right as the light blinked to life once again. The sole of a shoe let her know it hadn't been Batman, but someone else entirely. Feeling an unexpected spike in her heartrate, Morgan cursed her paranoia. Angrily, she yanked the curtains shut again and marched towards her bed with a huff.

It took her at least another hour before she fell asleep. When she did, uneasy, anxiety filled dreams plagued her mind.

* * *

Hey! I know, an update so soon? What magic is this?

So not a lot of action, but a lot of TALKING and STUFF THAT WILL BUILD TOWARDS ACTION and also DEVELOPMENT. Yay!

Finally a somewhat genuine moment between the two of them huh?

If some of this stuff seems off, I should say part of the second half was written under the influence of having watched The Exorcist right before.


	29. Marjorie and Salmon

**Chapter Twenty Nine: Marjorie and Salmon**

* * *

September 10th

Pushing open the door to _Marjorie's, _warm air rushed to meet her, bringing with it a heavenly smell. Freshly baked bread mingled with ground coffee and sweet flowers, and for Morgan's nose, sensitivity heightened by pregnancy, it was almost too much. Still, the cozy inside of the small bakery was to prefer by far to the rainy, windy outside she'd braved to come here.

The shop was made up of an elongated room with round two-person tables scattered throughout. Every surface, from shelves to windowsills, seemed to be bursting with flowers, so much so that Morgan couldn't be sure if she'd entered a bakery or a green house. The tables were adorned with white crocheted tablecloths and lit, square lanterns that gave the room a golden hue. With the rain whipping against the windows, the place was perfect to just sit for hours with a good book and a cup of coffee.

There was a counter at the far end of the room, behind which was a swing door that presumable led to the actual bakery. As Morgan walked towards the counter, studying the plenty bouquets adoring its surface with vague amusement, an elderly lady emerged from the swing door, a tray of perfectly shaped, golden buns in her grip. She didn't seem to notice Morgan at first as she started stacking the buns, humming happily to herself. Her skin seemed to be only a single shade lighter than midnight and the flour on her hands stood out greatly because of it. Her hair was styled in cornrows, gathered in a neat bun at the back of her head. She was overweight, but not overly so. More, it gave her extra curves that gave her bright yellow dress a flair to it that it wouldn't have gotten on a skinny woman.

"Excuse me?" Morgan hesitated to break the peace surrounding the woman she could only assume was Marjorie Dennis. "Are you Mrs. Dennis?"

"Oh!" The woman gave a small startle, turning with laughter already bubbling forth. "Don't go scarin' and old lady, Sugar!"

"I'm sorry-"

She waved her away with a wrinkled hand. "No matter – Yes, that's me, but please, call me Marjorie. I assume you're Morgan? Victoria's granddaughter?" She wiped her hand off on her apron and offered it to Morgan.

"That's me," Morgan gave her as genuine a smile as she could, which actually wasn't so hard. She was nervous about the job interview, but only because she found she really wanted the job. Especially after seeing the bakery itself. Still, it felt impossible to be sad in this place, like sadness was a crime here, so the smile came easily. "Thank you so much for seeing me."

"Of course!" she smiled warmly, her teeth impossibly white in contrast to her dark skin. Her eyes were large and shiny, long lashes making them look younger than the rest of her face. They were darker than even her skin, completely black and seemingly endless. Morgan got the feeling that this woman could look directly into people's souls if she so wished. It didn't make her feel uncomfortable, because she also felt like Marjorie had never judged anyone harshly in her life. "Now, what can I get you? A cup of coffee?"

"Oh, um, I've stopped drinking coffee after, you know," she placed a telling hand on her stomach and Marjorie nodded, sending her a faux conspiratorial look.

"Naturally. We've gotta protect the little one."

Morgan instantly smiled. Marjorie had said it casually, with a glimmer in her eye, like they'd been sharing a private joke. She got the sense that the shop owner didn't care that she was pregnant. Not in the sense that she was indifferent to the child, but simply that she didn't judge Morgan by it. She saw Morgan as something more than just a pregnant girl, but as a person with an identity besides the fact.

She took it was a good sign. Morgan knew most employers wouldn't have been able to see past her ever-growing stomach. They'd know she wouldn't be a permanent solution, and they wouldn't be bothered hiring her.

She got it. Pregnancies tended to mess up plans. _Boy, _did she get it.

"Tea, then." Marjorie decided, motioning for Morgan to take a seat by the nearest table.

She sat, wondering if she was supposed to pull out one the resumes she and her mom had spent all of yesterday writing. Ok, her mom had been shouting "helpful" advice from the living room so Morgan wasn't so sure she would consider that actually contributing. In the end, she figured she'd politely treat this as a tea date and not a job application. She'd rather seem interested in getting to know Marjorie than try to be all business about it. She got the feeling it would be a better approach.

The elderly woman came bustling back with a tray, placing tea and a plate of cinnamon buns in front of Morgan, and a cup of tea and a whole grain bun for herself.

"I'm trying to cut back on the sweets." She explained, letting out a grunt as she sat down. "My doctor says working for forty years in a bakery has all but given me diabetes!" she let out a chortle as if such a notion was ridiculous, "Well, I just went and told him 'Sugar gave me the hips that caught my husband's attention in the first place and after thirty five years of marriage, my bakery is what's made sure he stays!"

Marjorie threw her head back and guffawed, her stomach bouncing. Morgan joined with a more subdued, polite laughter.

"Now, lets talk business." She calmed down, taking a small sip of tea. "Tell me why you want to work here."

Morgan squashed down the urge to start squirming in her seat. Nerves were getting the better of her as Marjorie leaned back in her chair, folded her hands on the table and started _staring._

"Um," Morgan cleared her throat, wondering if now was the time to pull out the resume. "Well, I know grandma's already explained my predicament to you.." She sat up straighter, letting her hands rest in her lap. Reaching into herself, she pulled forth some of the Sparrow courage she seemed to have lost sometime during the past few months. "Basically, I quit my old job, both because of my pregnancy and because my mom was moving into her new home, and I wanted to be there to help her adjust to her new.. situation."

"Yes, she was recently wheelchair bound, correct?"

Morgan nodded. "So, I spent some time just making sure she wasn't alone in this new, scary house with this new, scary loss of movement. But I grew restless, I guess. I don't like not being active. And I don't like feeling like I'm not contributing. I don't want to just live off of my dad's life insurance. I'm almost a –" she briefly choked on the word, "_mom_, now.. So I need to start planning for that future, you know? And getting a job so I can save up money for the arrival of the little one is the best thing I can think of right now."

Marjorie nodded. "Of course. That sounds like very well thought out reasoning. Now, tell me a bit about yourself."

"Right," Morgan took a sip of her tea. It was very sweet, and she supposed it would've tasted good, if she hadn't been dealing with morning sickness all day. She put the cup down and started on the speech she'd practiced yesterday. "Well, I'm a disciplined worker. I'm punctual. I'm actually a very good baker, which really confuses my mom because none of my parents have any skills in that department-"

"No, no, I mean _you. _Tell me about interests, dreams, quirks, you know, _you._"

_Well, now you're just _completely_ throwing me off balance. _

"Oh, um," Morgan faltered. Tell her about her interests and dreams?

_Um. _

What exactly were those again?

_Oh my god, Morgan, just because you're having a bit of an identity 'where-do-I-belong-in-the-world' crisis doesn't mean you don't know yourself at all, _an annoyed voice supplied in her mind.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Releasing the air, a calm settled on her usually buzzing thoughts, and answers to Marjorie's inquiry came with little prompting. She opened her mouth and found the words flowing freely and easily.

"Well, I like to read. Old books. The ones that make your head hurt just trying to decipher the language. I'm an only child, but my mom has a sister with kids some ten years younger than me. I wanted to major in biology and history in college – perhaps I still do, actually – and maybe become a teacher, but I'm not sure I'd have the patience to work with kids all day. I mean, I like kids, but I'm not the most patient or tolerant person on the planet, so I'm not sure how I'd do. Um, I've never ridden a horse, but I've always wanted to try it, because I _love _horses. In theory. I used to own a cat but he died of old age some time ago and I've thought of getting a new one.." She paused, noticing the amused look on Marjorie's face. "Sorry, I'm on the verge of rambling."

Also, mentioning she wasn't particularly patient wasn't exactly the best thing to do at a job interview. _Stupid. _

Marjorie shook her head. "No, keep going."

_Keep going? Why? What does this have to do with my ability to brew coffee and man a counter? Why do you even _care_?_

"Uh, I have a Christmas tradition where I read Les Miserables and then every other year I read a Narnia book instead. I'm seriously thinking about attending college sometime when I get the opportunity, which obviously won't be for a few years. I've only been in one relationship – ok, I went on one date when I was in Denmark last year, but that doesn't count. Oh – I've spent the last two years in Denmark because my dad was Danish and I wanted to meet his family after he passed away."

Marjorie cut open her bun and applied a generous amount of raspberry jam, still looking at Morgan like this was all very interesting. Morgan sensed that Marjorie got a lot more out of the information she was giving her than any random person would.

Morgan shrugged, reaching up to tug at a curl before remembering she'd put up her hair today. "And I guess that's it.." She didn't want to bore Marjorie or reveal information that would paint her in a bad light.

Marjorie took a sip of her tea, considered it with a slight grimace, and then added a small spoonful of sugar. She was silent for too long, and Morgan prepared herself for the rejection speech. Any moment, Marjorie would say that she appreciated Morgan's interest, but unfortunately she wasn't quite what they were looking for, or, miraculously, they didn't need a new cashier after all.

She knew she should've shown Marjorie her stupid resume.

"So, when can you begin?" Marjorie asked instead, and Morgan opened her mouth in surprise, finding her words to be briefly stuck in her throat.

"Oh, as soon as possible!" Wait, she had a doctor's appointment tomorrow. "I'm seeing my doctor tomorrow, but after that, I'm completely at your disposal."

"Good," Marjorie looked up at her again for the first time since Morgan had finished telling her about herself, and Morgan was sure she looked very surprised, because the old lady smirk slightly at her and sent her a small wink. She'd known she was sweating with nerves. "You come by the day after tomorrow, and we'll arrange your work schedule. How does Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays sound to you?"

"That sounds perfect – yeah, no problem at all!"

_Oh my god, I'm actually getting a job!_

"Perfect. Now, eat your bun." She motioned for the bun on Morgan's plate, as if her ability to eat it was the final test.

Morgan happily cut it open and applied a thin layer of butter. With her nerves finally gone, she felt her nausea let up slightly, and she figured she could eat a bun without turning her stomach.

As soon as she bit into the bun and told Marjorie how delicious it was, the older woman smiled in satisfaction and engaged her in casual small talk. Half an hour later, Morgan was gathering her things, still not quite able to believe that she'd gotten a job despite her pregnancy.

"Mrs. – _Marjorie_," she corrected herself at the older woman's look. "Thank you so much for this. I know most people would've sent me on my way the second they heard I was pregnant. You don't understand how much this means to me."

Marjorie gave her a smile that was truly warm. She grasped Morgan's hands with her weathered ones, squeezing them tightly. "You're welcome, and I'm happy I could help. The world can be a harsh place for a single mother – not a lot of chances are offered. I know."

Morgan sensed a story, but she bit down her natural curiosity, knowing that half an hour of drinking tea together didn't give her the right to pry.

"I'll look forward to seeing you the day after tomorrow then." Morgan returned the smile, knowing it would probably never reach the level of radiance and comfort as Marjorie's.

"Remember to wear comfortable shoes." She teased before walking behind the cash register again, putting on her apron.

Morgan patted her pocket to ensure her car keys were still there, offered Marjorie a final wave and then walked outside, hurriedly opening her umbrella to hide from the continuous downpour.

A small, but nonetheless bright, smile stretched her lips, steadily growing, and she pointed her face towards the pavement so nobody could see her smiling to herself like a lunatic. People in Gotham had been investigated by the police for less.

The rain was still pouring as she dashed to her car, which was unfortunately parked half a mile away. She reached it with a sigh of relief, one of her shoes soaked from stepping in a puddle. Trying to fish out her keys and not drop her bag, combined with holding her umbrella aloft, proved a greater task than she had expected. Then, her phone started ringing, adding to the chaos. She dropped her bag, then the keys, and ultimately moved the umbrella so far away that she got wet after all. Grumbling to herself, she finally unlocked the car and shoved her things inside.

"Hey, this is Morgan," she said once she'd gotten into her seat and answered the phone.

_"__Hi! It's M'gann!_" An excited voice answered. "_Me, Raquel, Zatanna and Artemis are going cake tasting this weekend. Wanna come?" _

"Sure, that sounds nice, as long as I'm not working. Where is it?"

"_Metropolis – we're meeting at the bakery. I'll send you the location and time. You've got a job?"_

Morgan smiled to herself. "As of five minutes ago."

"_Oh my god, congratulations!"_ M'gann gushed, "_hey, I'm kind of super busy right now, so I've gotta go – but tell me all about it when we meet, okay?_"

"Yeah, sure," She pushed the key into the ignition and felt the engine rumble to life. "I'm about to drive home anyway, so I can't really talk. I'll see you in a few days?"

"_Absolutely. It's going to be so nice!" _

"I can't wait – I'll see you, bye."

"_Bye."_

She tossed her phone onto the seat beside her and backed out the car. Once she hit the road, Morgan's mind started whirling. She hadn't really hung out with any of the other girls since she'd realized she was pregnant. Keeping secrets from actual mind readers was difficult, no matter how hard that mind reader tried to not read minds. And many of the girls were very intuitive – surely a few of them would know something was off.

Yet, she was excited. These were her friends, and hanging out with them, gushing over a wedding, shouldn't have to be nerve wracking. It should be fun and relaxing. She just needed to take a deep breath and chill out.

She just hoped to god she could eat cake without her morning sickness getting in the way.

* * *

September 14th

Trying to remember who you were before everything went to shit, was surprisingly hard. Picking yourself apart and trying to figure out what was _you _and what was just trauma and hurt and anger overruling your judgement, was damn near impossible from time to time. Dick was trying, though. He did all the stupid routines that was supposed to help you change your thought cycle. He even wrote those stupid lists of 'five things I'm grateful for today', even though most days they were more like 'two things I'm grateful for today'. Or sometimes even just _one._

Dick had adopted a new phrase in an effort to better himself.

_WWDD – what would Dick do? _

Former Dick, that is. Obviously. Several times a day, he asked himself, _If the old me had been faced with this particular issue, what would he have done? How would he have reacted?_

Sometimes, he had to admit he had no idea. He wasn't even sure where the 'old' him ended and the 'new' him started. Was there even a difference? Was this just a natural progression, like all things? _Could_ he even change?

_Should _he?

That was the question he battled the most. He'd had one epiphany one night, after a stressful mission, about how he was failing his task and losing himself. But that didn't automatically promise a change. That didn't miraculously mean he was going to wake up all sun shine and wild flowers the next morning. Unfortunately, all this change and betterment was hard work.

_You wouldn't think it was this hard trying to be yourself._

The problem was that happiness was fleeting. But anger and sadness? They latched on and were _much _harder to escape from. He felt like all his negative emotions had manifested into a huge, dark, terrible cavern that he now had to claw his way out of. Anger and resentment were like vines grabbing onto his extremities and pulling him further down every time he crawled upwards. Hate and self-righteous pride was a tide of black water that threatened to drown him if he lost his grip on the slick cavern walls.

_Al_right_, no more brooding in the dark._ He shook himself out of steadily more poetic and ridiculous ponderings of his own misery. If he got any worse, he'd have to bring pen and paper down here so he at the least could publish his poetry and gain something from it.

Dinner was coming up. He'd been sitting in the Batcave for the last half hour, debating on whether, when the time came, he should upstairs and eat with the others.

On one hand; food.

On the other hand, he didn't necessarily _want _to eat dinner with the others.

He knew that was the _wrong_ him thinking that, however. Back in the day, he certainly would've gone up to eat dinner. He certainly wouldn't be bettering himself by skipping dinner.

But it would be _awkward._

_Ok, but WWDD? _He asked himself.

_.._

_He would go upstairs and eat dinner, _he grudgingly replied.

_Sigh. _

Time to eat dinner.

Bracing his hand against the table, he pushed off and got out of his chair, realizing only then that he was wearing the Batman suit.

He couldn't remember putting it on. And it wasn't even night yet, so he had no intention of actually going out.

For a moment, he stared at the black gloves covering his hands, feeling a mix of bemusement and worry. How much had he slept last night? The answer was; _clearly not enough_.

As if hearing his thoughts and entirely agreeing with them, Dick's eyes stung when he blinked, exhaustion leaving them dry and unfocused. He dearly needed sleep. But the nightmares refused to let him. He'd been fine for about a month now, but for some reason, they'd flared up again a few days ago. He'd woken in a cold sweat after, at most, only a few hours of rest. He'd tried to go back to sleep the first two nights, but his reeling mind and jumbled emotions pulled him far away from the sleep he so desperately needed. So after that, he'd stopped trying to go back to sleep and just get up to do work.

Maybe if he popped one of the sleeping pills he knew Alfred had a stash of. They hadn't been used for a long time, not since –

_Say it, dammit, _he ordered himself with clenched fists, _stop treating his name like it's poisonous. _

Since Bruce had gone. Alfred had used the pills to knock him out whenever he went too long without sleep. For his own sake. Because Bruce had a one track mind and a tendency towards obsessing. Dick shuddered at the silent comparison he almost made to his current self. If fourteen year old Dick had known how he would turn out, he probably wouldn't have made that comment about not wanting to be _The _Batman. It was probably what had jinxed him.

_Shut up._ He needed to stop beating himself over the head. He needed to be his own best friend instead of worst enemy. He slipped out of the suit with practiced ease, focusing on dinner instead. Even though all his stubborn instincts were fighting against it, he planned his evening thusly:

He would go upstairs and participate in dinner with the others.

Then, he would do some paperwork for Wayne Enterprises.

And then he would go to sleep, at eleven at the latest.

His thoughts instantly protested. _But patrolling- _

_But not dying from sleep deprivation, or dying from falling off tall buildings because of said sleep deprivation? _He argued back.

_Good point. _His mind relented.

He needed to get his head checked. There was far too much two-sided arguing going on up there for just one brain.

Wearing civilian clothes once again, he headed upstairs, the warm rush of the manor's interior welcome after the chilly cave. He needed to turn on the heat, now that summer was over. Not that the Batcave was warm during the summer either, but it turned particularly frigid in the winter.

He could hear the clatter of plates as he approached the dining room. Finding Alfred setting the table and Tim rushing to finish his homework before eating, Dick stopped short by the door.

It took them a moment to notice him, but when they did, they sort of paused their doings for a second before reassuming as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Something _was _out of the ordinary, though, because if Dick remembered correctly, the last time he'd attended dinner was two months ago.

"Master Dick, how can I help you?" Alfred looked expectantly at him after finishing setting the table.

It was set for two. Tim and Damian. Somehow, the realization that Alfred didn't even hope for Dick to join them anymore, left him feeling hollow and guilty. He wondered _when _Alfred had stopped setting the table for three.

It wasn't like staying away had been a conscious decision. He'd just been busy and angry and tired of the others trying to butt into his life every time he joined. So eventually, he'd stopped joining.

"What's for dinner?" He asked, knowing that the completely normal question was anything but normal, coming from him. His throat felt like it was filling with acid.

Tim stopped writing, but he didn't look up from his work. Alfred didn't have an outward reaction. Years of working for both Bruce Wayne and Batman had given him an unbreakable composure.

"Grilled salmon." He answered, the very picture of the polite butler. Then, though his voice was carefully blank, Dick could still detect a small grain of hope. "Are you joining us?"

Now, Tim wasn't even trying to be subtle about listening in on their conversation.

Dick pressed his lips together, wondering why he was _nervous _about accepting a dinner invitation in his own house with his family. "Yeah."

"Very well, I shall fetch another plate." Alfred swept out of the room so fast, Dick was sure he was trying to ensure there'd be no take backs.

"You're eating dinner with us?" Tim had completely abandoned his homework by now, pushing away his notes and closing his books.

Dick shrugged, wishing Tim would leave it alone before he got irritated. "I'm hungry."

"Uh," Tim looked very doubtful and Dick immediately felt annoyance flare up. "Sure, okay."

As if the air of awkwardness and irritation had summoned him, Damian arrived just at that moment. He regarded Dick, expertly covering up the surprise he must've felt at seeing him here. "Grayson." He said.

"Damian." Dick replied.

"Are you joining us?"

Dick nodded again, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Good. Perhaps Drake's poor attempts at conversation will be directed elsewhere, then."

"Hey!" Tim protested, and Damian turned a cool gaze onto him. "I haven't bothered trying to engage you in conversation at the dinner table for weeks!"

"Yes, and somehow the silence is even more annoying," Damian instantly shot back, managing to come across as both a sophisticated aristocrat and a childish kid. "I'm not sure how you do it."

For a moment, Tim's nostrils flared and his eyebrows knit together. Then he seemed to decide, as with anything concerning Damian and his attitude, it clearly wasn't worth it, and his features smoothed out, followed by an eye roll.

"It's good you're here, Dick." Tim said, moving to gather his papers into a neat pile before shoving them into his school bag. "Give the little demon someone else to terrorize for once."

The murderous look Damian gave Tim spelled trouble, but Alfred appropriately distracted them by arriving with the food.

Somehow, their everyday arguing, and their assurance that it was good he'd come, made Dick feel so much better about joining. Damian was sometimes hard to read, but Dick was good at reading between the lines with him. He was happy Dick was here, and not just because it would mean Tim had someone else to annoy.

As they approached their seats, Tim looked over his shoulder and gave Dick a small smile that Dick felt compelled to return. He allowed a small pulling on his mouth, knowing Tim would see it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd truly smiled at someone, and Dick wondered if his mouth even remembered how.

And when was the last time he'd laughed, for that matter?

_Okay, focus on dinner, _then_ on your sad life._

A moment later, the three of them sat in silence, eating their dinner.

Dick wasn't exactly surprised. Damian rarely spoke except to insult people, and nobody was doing anything particularly insulting at the moment. Tim didn't seem too interested in talking to Damian, and Dick knew he was unsure what to talk to _him _about. After all, the two of them hadn't really talked in a very long time.

And Dick? Well, he couldn't for the life of him overcome the awkward air and start talking. _He _was the cause of the tense silence, and he had no idea how to break it.

Ok, that was a lie. He knew how to break it. He just couldn't bring himself to make small talk. He wasn't sure he even remembered how. After months of barely talking to the others – and when he did, it was usually because they were fighting – how was he expected to just pick up where they left off, and pretend he was the perfect brother again?

He couldn't.

So, they ate. In silence. And even though it was tense and terrible, it was still progress. Because he was _here_, wasn't he? He was trying. And he couldn't be sure if it would take another two or ten or perhaps hundred dinners before things were back to normal. But he was here now, which meant it would take one less dinner from then on. Eventually, things would return to normal. Hopefully.

He could do this. He could be _happy. _

Eventually, Damian excused himself, claiming he was going to the training room. Tim got up as well, saying he had more homework to finish.

Dick sat at the table for another moment. Long enough for his eyes to start swimming from exhaustion again. The warm food in his belly pushed him further towards the brink of unconsciousness.

Alfred came in and started clearing the table. "Did you enjoy dinner, sir?"

Dick quickly nodded. "Very much, thank you, Alfred." He remembered his earlier musings about sleeping pills. "Do you still have the pills you used to knock out Bruce with?" his voice faltered slightly at the name, but it was such a small hiccup, you'd barely notice it if you weren't paying close attention.

Alfred regarded him with scrutinizing eyes. "Having trouble sleeping, sir?"

Reluctantly, Dick nodded. "I have.. nightmares." He slowly admitted, licking his upper lip and pressing his lips together. He turned his eyes away, something inside him bristling at his weakness displayed.

_Weak. _

"I will bring some to your room by the time you go to sleep."

"I'm gonna sleep early, tonight." Dick quickly went on. "I just gotta finish some paperwork. Sometime between ten and eleven, hopefully."

There was a pause. Then, cautiously, "Not patrolling tonight, sir?"

Right. Because they all expected him to patrol. Because he always patrolled. "No. Not tonight. I'm too tired."

Alfred scrutinized him an Dick got the strange urge to fidget under his gaze.

"Good boy." Alfred swept out of the room before Dick could answer.

He got up and headed for the office. His feet dragged across the floor, and he wondered if Alfred had already drugged him, somehow. Taking a fortifying breath, he battled his tired brain. He needed to stay awake for a few hours more. Just a few hours of paper work, and then he could sleep all he wanted.

In the end, he managed to get through two thirds of his planned work, before he had to call it quits. His eyes were swimming and his mind kept blanking, refusing to take in the things he was reading.

It was only about nine pm when he shuffled to his room, only just finding the willpower to brush his teeth before dropping onto his mattress like a stone.

The sleeping pill was lying innocently on his nightstand, but he decided to not use it. He was so tired, he'd be asleep in a few minutes anyway.

* * *

With a gasp, Dick shot upright in bed. Hazy images from his nightmare were still floating before his eyes, mingling with the interior of his dark room. Fire flickered before his eyes, crackling in his ears, and smoke filled his nose, the terrible vapor threatening to suffocate him. He coughed wetly, almost expecting blood to dripple from his mouth. Then, his mind cleared and there was no blood, no smoke and no fire. His breathing was still labored, but it calmed somewhat down. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair and over his eyes.

Sweat clung to his skin and he pulled off the t-shirt he'd been wearing, sighing with relief at the cool air on his clammy skin. A few minutes later, his heart had calmed fully, but by then, his brain was fully awake. He wasn't tired anymore. The sweat on his skin had cooled and he shivered slightly.

He looked at his bedside clock. He'd only gotten three hours of sleep.

Instinctively, he flung the bedsheet aside and swung his feet over the side of his bed. He made to get up and head to the cave, but paused at the sight of a small pill and a glass of water on his nightstand.

That's right.. he had a sleeping pill in handy.

Part of him wanted to get up. It argued that he was fully awake now anyway, so he probably didn't need more sleep. He could do something useful with his time.

A bigger part of him just wanted to sink into his bed again, fall asleep and then sleep until the night was fully over, and the next day as well.

The bigger part won out. He took a sip of water to moisten his bone-dry throat, and then he swallowed the pill, flushing it down with the rest of the water. He lay back again, relaxing his body, and waited for the pill to take effect.

Half an hour later, his eyes slipped shut and his mind relaxed, pulling him into a dark, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Hey everybody! I'm back! Originally, I wasn't gonna post tonight, because I planned to push editting off until tomorrow, but then I saw that it had been almost a month since my last update, so I decided to just finish up tonight.

This chapter was equal parts Morgan and equal parts Dick. You don't see that often.

Next chapter will most likely be all Morgan and we'll get to meet some new OC's! (her coworkers)

Fun fact: During Morgan's scene, there was a small hint at a thing that'll be addressed later on in the story, through flashbacks. See if you caught it!


	30. Cake

**Chapter Thirty: Cake **

* * *

September 25th

Marjorie's nephew was easily one of the most beautiful people Morgan had ever seen.

She'd only met him a few days ago, due to differing work hours and Morgan having had to call in sick on Thursday. She'd been so dizzy even lifting her head off of her pillow had made her world spin, and if she tried to sit up, she'd promptly throw up. Her mom said she'd been much the same during her own pregnancy, so Morgan wasn't as worried as she was annoyed.

Marjorie was an angel in disguise, thankfully. She assured Morgan that it was perfectly okay. In fact, she'd _ordered _her to stay in bed until she was well enough. Still, Morgan felt horrible about the whole ordeal. She'd only started working a week ago, and she already had a sick day.

When she'd finally come back last Monday, she'd been greeted by Alexandria, a fellow cashier she'd been introduced to on her first day there. Alexandria was only an inch or so taller than Morgan, with dark eyes and shoulder length, black hair that hinted at a Hispanic background. She'd efficiently showed Morgan the ropes, something she was very grateful for. She could remember her first day as a pizza delivery girl, back when she'd still been a teenager. Back then, the person in charge of training her had put in a minimal effort in doing so, and Morgan had ended up making some rookie mistakes because of the poor guidance.

Now, in Alexandria's capable hands, she felt confident in how everything in the bakery worked, and what she was supposed to do.

And then, on her first Monday back from her sickness, Alexandria hadn't been the only person at work, but also a guy that quickly introduced himself as Marjorie's nephew, Andrew.

For a second, Morgan had blinked at him, resisting the urge to squint her eyes as if she'd been looking into the face of the sun.

The first thought that sprung to mind was _Apollo, _her subconscious having decided he must've been the god, descended from Mount Olympus to work as a cashier with her.

Then, she quickly grabbed hold of herself, reeled in all her surprise and locked it away tightly. Aiming a polite smile at him, she stuck out a hand for him to shake, introducing herself sort of breathlessly. (She told herself it was because her growing stomach was ruining her stamina, but it was still too small for the lie to be convincing.)

Despite Marjorie's dark skin, her nephew was much lighter. He looked like an Egyptian statue, tall and lean with regal, square features and golden tanned skin. His eyes were just as dark his aunt's, but with flecks of gold lighting up the ink like stars on the night sky. His hair was dark brown and kept short, with a hint of a curl to it, and when he smiled, revealing impossibly straight, white teeth, his cheeks dimpled.

Morgan was embarrassed to admit so, but she felt her brain short circuit and revert to that of a thirteen year old as he made small talk. He hung around for another ten minutes, a time in which Morgan found her nails increasingly interesting, as she didn't dare look up higher than his chest.

Then, Marjorie called for him from the kitchen, and he was sent on an errand to pick up honey from a very specific bee farmer. Alexandria explained that Marjorie bought only the best ingredients, determined to keep up her consistently good quality.

As soon as he left the building, Morgan excused herself and headed for the bathroom. She reeled in the urge to splash water on her face (she was wearing make up for the first time in weeks), and instead looked sternly at her reflection in the mirror hung over the sink.

"You pull your shit together," she scolded. "You don't know this guy, he's just a really pretty face. Also, hey, maybe remember the fact that you're kind of pregnant with another guy's baby? Your ex?"

An ex she was pretty sure she still might have had feelings for. Closing her eyes, an image of Dick sprung unbidden to the forefront of her mind and suddenly she felt like she could barely remember what Andrew looked like.

Annoyed by her reacting of simply _imagining _Dick's face, Morgan opened her eyes and focused on the mirror again.

"Alright, you're a grown woman. There's nothing wrong with finding a man attractive. But that's it. No flirting. Not even for fun. Not even a little."

She reminded herself that she had a kid on the way. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't date while the child was still young, not when she needed to keep her focus on it.

She'd given herself a five year ban on dating. And that also included flirting.

To her immense relief, Andrew didn't come back that day.

Now, during her Thursday shift, however, he was staying for the entire time, as a cashier. Morgan was sure she hadn't taken a single breath during the first hour at work. Then, gradually, she started to relax. After all, it was just a guy, and not even one she was actually interested in. Her stubbornness and pride quickly won over. Only once in her life had a guy ever been allowed to have an effect on her – and look where she had gotten because of it.

She felt a small ache at the thought. Dick hadn't been in contact since barging into her room almost three weeks ago, seemingly only to confuse her and her feelings even more. Remembering Dick and the life growing inside of her – partly because of him – put things into perspective. Besides, she was a superhero. She had huge wings, hidden by an enchanted necklace. That was the kind of thing that complicated a potential relationship.

By the end of her shift, she couldn't help but feel utterly ridiculous from her earlier behavior. Honestly, why had she been nervous? He was a nice guy, and he was _gorgeous_, but Morgan liked to believe she was better than swooning over some dude because he had dimples. Still, she knew she was just human, so she didn't beat herself up over it.

She drove home, feeling tired but happy. Her new work wasn't hard, but it was a lot more labor than she'd been doing for the past few months. It was a welcome change and she found she was much less fidgety now than before. Sure, she still had a lot of free time, but she felt a newfound purpose. She didn't itch to go out and beat up criminals, because all the excess energy was getting put to good use.

Now, she was finished for the week and could look forward to hanging out with the girls on Saturday, for M'gann's cake tasting. It had taken some time to find a date where everyone was available, but they'd finally managed it. She looked forward to it, even if she was nervous about keeping her secret. The others were smart – they would probably notice that something was off if she didn't behave totally natural.

Morgan reached their house and parked the car absentmindedly. Sitting silently in the vehicle for a moment, she allowed herself to simply breathe. She'd turned into such a worry wart lately. All she did was worry about this baby. Worry about it getting hurt, worry about it arriving, worry about people finding out..

Realizing that those last two issues were literally unavoidable, she blew out an amused snort. Why was she spending so much time lamenting about the inevitable? Making a vow to stop worrying so much, she got out of the car, running to get out of the rain.

September had been unusually wet this season – even for Gotham, where it usually rained four days of the week.

Getting inside, she was greeted by the smell of Shepard's pie.

"Perfect timing, Morgan." Her grandmother greeted as Morgan entered the kitchen to see the table set and the food being served.

"I must've been subconsciously drawn by the smell." She smiled as she sat down, calmed at the knowledge that she was with people she wasn't currently keeping any secrets from. She could be completely herself in this company. Sure, the people at work knew she was pregnant, so she didn't have to hide that, but they didn't know she was Sparrow.

"Had a good day at work?" Her mom seemed to pick up on her good mood.

Draining a glass of water, Morgan nodded. "It was nice. I'm so happy I finally get to do something. Thank you so much, again, gran."

Victoria responded by slapping a healthy serving onto Morgan's plate.

"How's the nausea?"

"Actually, today it's not so bad." She demonstrated this by digging right into her food with gusto. "I haven't thrown up once."

"Maybe you're getting over your morning sickness?" her mom suggested. Morgan knew Abigail had been nauseous throughout most of her pregnancy, but both of them had hope that Morgan would be different.

She offered her mom a smile. "Maybe I am."

* * *

September 27th

She was not.

Saturday morning was spent with her head over the toilet, barfing her guts up.

_Misery, thy name is morning sickness_. She pondered over her terrible fate even as she sent up a prayer to whatever god would listen for her nausea to go away before Zatanna and Artemis came to pick her up at twelve.

Morgan had only seen Artemis a few times since coming back to America, so she felt a little apprehensive. They'd never truly bonded before she'd left – too much stuff had been going on. And she'd honestly just never felt like she could relate to her. Morgan had been a bit put off by Artemis and Wally's decision to quit the hero life, because she'd only just joined herself. She couldn't understand why they'd ever quit.

She got it now, though. Partly.

Befriending Artemis was not happening, however, if she didn't stop hurling soon. She was _not _going out like this. Sickness excuses would only get her so far. And if she was pretending to be sick, it make no logical sense for her to be out eating cake.

Either way, if the nausea wasn't going, then neither was she.

Dragging herself out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, smelling of toothpaste and stomach acids, feeling uncomfortable and sweaty in her pajama, Morgan collapsed into a chair at the dining table. Victoria handed her a steaming bowl of plain oatmeal, claiming it had been the only dish she had been able to eat during the morning sickness of both her pregnancies.

Morgan managed to eat it, she even managed to almost enjoy it. Afterwards, she felt better. Well enough to go with the other girls today, at the very least.

"When are your old classmates coming, Morgan?" her mom asked her around eleven, as Morgan got ready for the day. Abigail was watching Morgan applying her make-up and doing her hair.

"My, erh, _classmates_ should be here in about an hour." She concentrated extra hard on doing her mascara to ignore the slight guilt she felt in her gut at her bold-faced lie. Then again, she obviously couldn't tell her mom and grandma who the girls really were.

Putting away her mascara, Morgan shrugged out of her bathrobe and headed for her closet, when her mom's small gasp stopped her in her tracks.

She turned to regard Abigail. "..what?"

Her mom looked all kinds of choked up. "You're starting to show."

_Right. _What with wearing her charm every waking hour of the day, Morgan hadn't really let her mom see the actual growth until now.

With a wry smile, she placed a hand on the small bump that had grown at an alarming rate the past few weeks. If Batman had shown up tonight instead of the night he _did, _he would most likely have noticed her condition.

Her mom wheeled over, eyes fixed completely on Morgan's middle, and she reached out a hesitant hand. "Can I?"

Morgan took her hand and placed it on her stomach, letting her mom feel the firm bump.

Abigail released another small gasp and Morgan swore there were tears in her eyes. She studied Abigail's face closely, watching emotions flit across it. Happiness mingled with worry, excitement was briefly taken over by sadness, both hopefulness and hopelessness battled for dominance, before a soft smile settled.

Morgan was aware Abigail worried a great deal for her. She knew her mom had been greatly disappointed in Morgan's actions when she first found out, but had ultimately made the decision to be supportive. It was obvious that her mom considered this situation less than ideal.

And she knew her decision to keep it from Dick was what Abigail disapproved of most of all. That it was a huge disappointment.

Abigail looked up at Morgan with misty eyes and that small smile. "It's really happening. I can't believe I've only just noticed that you're showing."

Morgan grimaced on instinct. "Right.." she decided to come clean. "There might be a reason for that.."

Abigail, being a mom, obviously, picked up on that very guilty tone in her voice, and she raised an eyebrow at her. "Morgan, what did you do?"

"So, I _may _have had my sorceress friend make a charm that cloaks my stomach.."

"_Morgan!"_

"Hey, I did this to protect my identity _and _my child." Morgan couldn't even be bothered to have this discussion now.

Abigail regarded her for a moment and placed her hands back into her lap, letting out a small sigh. "I guess that's fair."

Turning towards her closet again, Morgan pulled out the sweater she'd been meaning to put on before her mom had interrupted her. She'd wanted to wear a dress, but it being the end of September, in Gotham, the weather was already far too cold for that.

An hour passed and Zatanna and Artemis arrived. Morgan waited by the front door and quickly shouted her goodbyes before racing out. She didn't want to introduce the two girls to her family and risk them getting recognized as the heroes they were.

She was settled in the back of Artemis' car before either girl had even had the chance to get out and greet her.

"In a hurry?" Zatanna smirked at her from the passenger seat.

"Hey, unless you want to risk my family seeing you and realizing you resemble two of my fellow heroes very much, I suggest you get going." She replied.

Artemis drove off.

"Hi," Morgan greeted the two girls properly. "Thanks for picking me up."

"Anytime," Artemis gave her a small smile in the rearview mirror. "I need to drive more people around so I have witnesses whenever Zatanna tells people I'm a terrible driver."

"I'm _just _saying I hadn't seen you use your turn signal _once _so far."

The two girls launched into the domestic sort of bickering that only occurred between roommates and old married couples.

The drive was only twenty minutes, thankfully. When they arrived, they found M'gann and Raquel already outside the shop. It was a fairly large place – larger than Morgan had mentally pictured. The front was made up almost entirely of huge glass windows, with thin ionic styled pillars framing them. Fluffy, red curtains hung in the windows and a large sign was over the wide double doors, in script so fancy and elegant, Morgan almost couldn't decipher what it actually said.

"Hey girls!" M'gann all but squealed, embracing them eagerly before ushering everyone inside. She was in her human disguise and Morgan silently envied the Martian's transformative powers. With a power like that, she wouldn't have had to wear charms to hide her wings – or stomach.

Inside, the place was spacey and elegant. The walls were the purest of white, and everything seemed to have golden finishes, from the counter to the window frames. Bouquets of red and white roses were strategically placed around the room, giving it a splash of color that didn't take away from the elegance. The whole shop _screamed_ wedding. Upon entering, a fan over the door gently blew a constant blast of warm air, making the shop toasty and cozy compared to the cold and dark autumn outside. An inviting aroma of cake – _mmm, chocolate and coffee and caramel.. is that strawberries I sense? And cheesecake? - _ beckoned them forward like a siren.

M'gann practically skipped to the counter, where she was greeted by a woman so thin, Morgan was sure she'd never eaten a cake in her life. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun, but the smile on her face was genuine and warm.

"Welcome to _La Dent Sucreé,_" she said, "Do you have an appointment?"

M'gann nodded. "Megan Morse. We're scheduled for twelve thirty."

The assistant clicked away on a keyboard before looked up again. "Right this way, please."

They were let further inside, and the smell grew stronger, so strong that, even though it was heavenly, it was almost too much for Morgan. Her stomach did a small flip, a warning to watch that her nausea didn't come back. She hardly cared at the moment because she was much more focused on a craving beginning to rear its ugly head.

To her disappointment, there was no cheesecake for them to try, but that didn't stop her from wanting one. For an hour, the girls took turns tasting small bites and discussing flavors and combinations. They made a sport out of who could describe a taste of cake in the most pretentious and unnecessary manner.

At some point, they all collapsed around a table, groaning and moaning in agony.

"I'm never eating cake again!" Zatanna sighed, leaning her head back and draping her arm over her eyes in the most dramatic fashion.

"I've grown at least two pant sizes." Artemis complained, making a big show out of undoing the top button on her jeans.

Because of the threat of nausea – and a desire to not puke in a cake shop – Morgan had held herself back. Now, despite the minimal amount of cake she'd actually consumed, she still felt that far too familiar morning sickness creeping up on her. She was glad they were done. Hopefully, she'd get to go home before it got too bad.

Right now, however, it was manageable, and she chose to focus on her friends instead. With a small snicker, Morgan watched as Raquel slid so low in her seat, her butt was only just balancing on the edge of the chair, blowing out her stomach until it looked like she'd swallowed a balloon.

"Look guys, I'm pregnant," She chuckled, caressing the cake-baby.

The laugh Morgan let out was louder and more hysterical than any in recent memory. Her kneejerk reaction had been to laugh so she'd appear casual, but the sound she created was anything but. The others gave her identical weird looks and she stopped so abruptly she feared she might've swallowed her tongue in the process.

For a beat or two, there was awkward silence. Morgan looked at Zatanna in a small panic.

"Okay, so, have you decided on a combination yet, M'gann?" Zatanna steered the conversation away. Morgan let out a small sigh in relief.

M'gann shrugged. "I have a few I like, but I won't decide anything until I've got Connor's input."

The others nodded.

Morgan was pretty sure that five people for a cake tasting was actually a bit much, especially when this wasn't even the 'official' tasting yet. After all, Connor Kent wasn't one to miss out on eating a lot of cake. However, M'gann's uncle knew the shop owner personally, so they had given her special treatment. Upon arriving, M'gann and the owner had talked about design for some of the time while the others stuffed their faces, so she wasn't nearly as ready to explode as them.

"Anyway, our time is up. They're expecting a new customer any moment now, so we've gotta go."

Artemis, Zatanna and Raquel got out of their seats slowly, stumbling after M'gann like tipsy teenagers. Taking up the rear, Morgan was more than ready to leave the shop. She'd liked hanging out with the others, but she'd also felt anxious, like she'd been balancing on a tightrope, and any second now she'd accidentally reveal her secret. Now, she just wanted to go home and relax. She could use a nap.

They left the shop, instantly shivering from the frigid Gotham air.

Looking quite put together, M'gann smiled sweetly, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and regarded the others. "So, some coffee to flush down all this cake?"

A small chorus of groans echoed.

"I'm afraid I'll explode if I inhale too big of a _breath_." Raquel said, "No coffee for me, thanks."

Artemis and Zatanna voiced their agreement and Morgan silently nodded.

"Okay – then I guess we're done for the day?"

"I guess we are." Zatanna shrugged.

"This was so fun, though!" Artemis embraced M'gann. Goodbyes were exchanged and soon, Morgan, Zatanna and Artemis were heading for Morgan's house.

"Hey, I've been wondering – you guys don't even live in Gotham, and you took the Zeta tube to get here. Whose car is this?"

"It's mine, "Artemis said, "Zatanna shrunk it with magic so we could bring it."

"That's.." Morgan was silent for a moment, "incredible."

"All in a day's work," Zatanna smirked and wiggled her fingers playfully. "It's much easier – and cheaper – than renting a car, that's for sure."

They pulled up outside Morgan's place. Gathering her things quickly, pulling her coat tighter around herself in anticipation of the cold she was about to enter, she looked at the others. "Thank you again for getting me. And today was fun."

"Totally," Artemis agreed, just as Zatanna ordered Morgan to come visit them soon.

Abigail and Victoria were in the living room watching NCIS LA when Morgan came inside. With a quick excuse of fatigue and planning to take a nap, she slipped into her room. Collapsing onto her bed, she let out a deep sigh, hugging her pillows and comforters closer around her body. Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift for a moment, feeling actual sleepiness being to creep up on her. She was just beginning to contemplate actually taking a nap, when someone cleared their throat.

She leapt off her bed as if electrocuted. As if a phantom chill had gone through the room, all the hair on her body rose and her eyes looked about in a panic.

With a small ripple, M'gann's body materialized before her. Morgan fell back onto her bed in pure relief, heaving a shaky sigh.

"M'gann –what are you doing here?"

M'gann studied her briefly, tilting her head to the side. "I just needed to be sure that what I'd sensed was correct."

"What you – what you sensed?" _Aw, hell_. Morgan crossed her legs and placed her elbow on her knee, leaning her chin on her hand. She tried to look as innocent as possible. "Um, what did you sense?"

_Please, god, no. pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-_

"I thought I could sense two minds from you. But one of them was young, not fully developed. Like, like…"

_Fuck. _

_Don't say it. _

"Like you were pregnant."

_Damn it! I thought you were a mind reader?_

"I-" Morgan choked out. She ran both hands over her face and through her hair, letting herself fall back onto the mattress. "I _knew _I shouldn't have come today."

Okay, actually she hadn't known. It just made her feel better to pretend she'd at least _considered _the possibility of M'gann sensing her child. But, somehow, the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. Not for a second had she wondered how M'gann's powers worked, and if they could detect the minds of unborn children.

God, she felt stupid.

"It's easier to explain if I just show you.." Morgan said next. She couldn't muster the energy to explain her situation to yet another person. At least with M'gann, she had the opportunity to just show her thoughts and feelings directly.

M'gann walked over slowly, settling onto the bed beside her. Sitting up properly, Morgan offered the Martian a small and tired smile.

"I'll stay in the forefront of your mind – I'll only see what you choose to show me."

Licking her suddenly dry lips, Morgan nodded, already mentally shifting through all her memories, impressions and emotions, trying to gauge which she would need to show. She had tried to mentally communicate with M'gann – and with others, through M'gann – before, but never like this. She'd never had to project memories and emotions onto the other person.

M'gann's eyes flashed a luminescent green and she placed her hands on Morgan's temples. Morgan felt her eyes slip shut as the awareness of another person entering her mind overcame her.

_Show me. _

She hadn't fully gotten the chance to sort through all the things she'd wanted to show, so Morgan started out slowly. She let M'gann experience how Morgan had felt upon returning to America and seeing Dick again. How she'd been sad for him, angry at him, but still so completely drawn. She let her see how they'd argued and bickered but had still seemed interested. How there'd still been passion, no matter how misdirected. The scenes played across her consciousness like a movie. She was sure that M'gann had done something that allowed her thoughts to be more focused and clear. It let her very clearly show M'gann exactly what was going on, but unfortunately it also forced Morgan to relive a lot of memories she hadn't desired to dig up.

She showed M'gann her memories of entering the kitchen at night to comfort drink, and how Dick had unexpectedly joined her. With only a small tinge of embarrassment, she let M'gann see the small conversation they'd had in the hall before Dick had pulled her to him and they'd been kissing –

_I think you get the idea.._ Morgan chuckled lowly. She had no desire to share the things that came after that particular memory.

_I think I do. _M'gann's amused voice whispered in her mind.

But Morgan wasn't done. She pushed forth memories about buying prevention, but being distracted by her mother's accident, resulting in Morgan using the pills too late. She showed how the sex, surprisingly had made Dick more willing to work with her. How it had started a positive development. She allowed M'gann to experience the hesitant hopefulness Morgan had felt.

Then, she pulled forth the day she found out she was pregnant, and how much of a shock it had been. How scared and confused she'd felt. She let M'gann know that she'd left the manor out of fear of Dick finding out.

With a sigh she couldn't be sure was real or just in her mind, she let go of the tight ball of feelings she'd been saving for last. She admitted how scared she was to tell Dick – to tell anyone. How unsure she felt. Her fear of him rejecting the child.. and her. Allowing M'gann to see the agreement she had with Dick – them working together to track the Riddler and his clues – and how she hoped it would bring them closer together again. She also tacked on the feelings that followed. The absolute terror that she might lose the child while working as Sparrow. The guilt that she was endangering both of them, but also felt like she had no choice.

Reluctantly, she brought up the last thing. She laid bare the affection she still felt for him, the way her heart still somehow skipped a beat every time his eyes met hers, the shivers when he spoke to her. She admitted something to M'gann she hadn't yet fully admitted to herself.

She was just as in love with him now as she'd been before leaving.

With a gasp, Morgan opened her eyes and pulled back. Her breath was labored and tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes.

The bedroom was silent for a long moment. M'gann sat completely still, staring at her hands in her lap, taking all in she'd just seen.

Morgan wanted to scream. She couldn't believe she'd just admitted that out loud. The deepest, most secret part of her heart had been laid bare, and she hadn't been prepared.

_She loved him._

Morgan clasped her hands over her mouth in distress. There were many reasons she hadn't even admitted it to herself. It was too easy to get hurt. She couldn't afford to let affection get in the way. Her child needed their dad, and she didn't want to drive him away.

Despite her best efforts, a small sob left her.

_I'm not crying again! _

M'gann looked up at the sound, sighed her name with all the affection of a sister, and immediately drew Morgan into a tight hug.

"It's all going to be okay." M'gann told her.

Morgan nodded into her shoulder. She _wasn't _crying, actually. The tears had dried up as acceptance took over.

"And Morgan.. I understand."

She couldn't express how much it meant to hear that. All this time, every time she spoke to one of the few people that knew, she was met with some sort of disapproval or helpful suggestion. Nobody seemed to just support her. They condemned her for not telling Dick, without ever understanding what was keeping her from doing so.

They sat for a long moment. Long enough for Morgan to develop a crick in her back from the awkward position. Eventually she pulled back, shooting M'gann a small smile, meant to assure the older girl that she was okay.

"Thanks," she sighed.

They didn't say more. No words needed to be said.

M'gann embraced her briefly again before getting up. "I have to go," she said, "Connor is probably already wondering where I am."

Morgan licked her lips again and tugged a curl behind her ear. "It's fine. I'll see you soon."

M'gann took a small step back and gave Morgan a big and encouraging smile. "I hope everything works out. Please, if there's something I can do, don't hesitate."

"Of course," Morgan nodded, feeling so much better than she had just a moment ago. She watched M'gann approach her window. "Oh, and M'gann?"

The Martian looked silently at her over her shoulder.

"You won't tell anyone, right?"

M'gann gave her a cheeky smile. "Oh course not. Anyway, I think your stomach will start revealing your condition soon enough."

Morgan let out a small laugh, watching as the Martian shimmered into transparency and disappeared from her room. With a small sigh, she sat for a while, staring into space. Finding that she was wholly unwilling to think about what had just happened – and how it made her feel – she lay back on her bed.

This time, there was no one that interrupted her attempt at sleep, and so she drifted off peacefully.

* * *

Not only is this chapter horrifically late, but it's probably also the weakest one I've put out in a very long time. Practically nothing happened, HOWEVER, the next five chapters or so, if not more, will be PLENTY action packed!

But, hey, Josephine, why was this so late? Honestly, a few reasons: Of course, I began my third semester of university, which means I suddenly have a lot less free time - however, I still have enough free time for that to not be a good enough excuse. I was also just super unsure where this chapter was supposed to go. No, I KNEW where I wanted it to head, I just wasn't sure how to get there. And th scenes I had planned to write just werent tickling my create nerve, so I jsut didn't feel like writing them.

The result is a chapter without a lot of purpose, that was a bit rushed. (I wanted to get it out this week bc I'm goin to Athens next week! I'm so excited! aaaaaaa!)

The good news is that now I'm over that stupid hill I needed to climb to get to all the fun, exciting, action packed stuff. So I pinky promise that next chapter will be out MUCH sooner than this one!

Also, whenever I go a few weeks without updating, people start to worry that I'm abandoning the story, and I just want to put those worries to rest:

I would NEVER abandon this story without a word. I wouldn't just stop writing all of a sudden, I can promise you that. AND, if I ever do decide that it's time for the story to end bc I've lost my spark/cant be bothered anymore, I WILL write a few chapters that neatly round up some of the more important plot threads. I wont just leave you guys hanging. You have my word!

Fun fact: I almost made Artemis have a child before the beginning of this story - Like, I imagined that between the days of Artemis coming back to the Team, and Wally dying, they would've spent a few night together, and it would hae accidentally resulted in a pregnancy (I mean, who's on the pill after months under cover?) Then I decided to let Morgan get pregnant instead, and i scrapped the idea. I kind of regret scrapping it now, though? Bc that child would be ADORABLE


	31. Late Night Visits

**Chapter Thirty One: Late Night Visits**

* * *

October 7th

Morgan loved sleep. She loved that sudden blankness you weren't aware of while you were under, but never failed to relax you, even when your every waking hour tended to be a rather stress-filled environment. Sleep was that one time of day where you were completely removed from your worries.

Yeah, sleep was great. Ten out of ten would like to get more of.

However.

_However._

With a very cloudy mind and yet a distinct sense of _why me_, she was forced to face her current reality. Her hearing wasn't faulty, and her phone wasn't lying as it flashed the time – nearly blinding her eyes as they'd adjusted to the dark long ago.

It was three am, and someone was knocking on her window.

With a tiny whimper, she realized she needed to get out from under her covers, if she wanted the knocking to stop. _Somehow_, despite not changing in loudness or rhythm, it was starting to sound miffed that she was ignoring it. Also, she had no idea who it was, so that was a potential security problem, to put it mildly.

Grunting lowly in the back of her throat, wondering when she got _old_, she heaved herself out of bed. A slight shiver travelled along her spine, because her room was _cold._ Fully intending to tell whoever it was to _fuck off,_ she put on her best scowl, marched towards her window, and flung back the curtain.

The hissed 'Go away' died in her throat when a clearly unamused bat-glare greeted her. Almost on instinct, her hand reached down to touch the bracelet she knew wouldn't be there. Instantly, she sucked in her stomach – because that shit was three months along and it was _definitely _noticeable – before opening her window.

"It's _three am!" _she wanted to yell, but her mom was sleeping right next door, so she settled for a very indignant whisper.

"You said to contact you the second Riddler showed his face." He shot back, clambering inside. "I can't believe you took this long to react – did I teach you _nothing _about vigilance?"

She opened her mouth in protest, but decided to settle on the bigger issue. "Riddler is on the move?"

"It's all over the twenty-four-hour news cycle," he pressed a few buttons on his wrist computer, and a life feed sprung up, tinting the room blue. Video feed clearly being recorded from a helicopter showed a giant, flaming question mark in the middle of a Gotham parking lot."

She raised an eyebrow. "Subtle."

"He's clearly trying to grab our attention."

"Gimme five minutes and I'll be ready. Now turn around."

He did so dutifully, and Morgan sucked in a deep breath of relief. The first item she put on was the bracelet. Then, she quickly darted to her closet and slipped into her suit. After lacing up her boots and fastening her cape, she cleared her throat to let him know she was ready. He'd been standing in complete silence the entire time and Morgan had felt the skin along her throat and collarbone redden every time her clothes made a noise as she slipped into them.

Batman quickly made for her window again, but Morgan hesitated. He seemed to sense her reluctance as he turned and regarded her shortly. "Sparrow?"

"I can't lock this window from the outside and I'm not leaving it unlocked. This is Gotham and the only people left in the house would be an old lady and a handicapped woman." She made for her door, only sparing him a quick backwards glance, "Lock the window and we'll go through the front door."

Batman obediently locked her window and followed silently behind her. The weight of the cape felt foreign on her shoulders because she hadn't worn her costume in so long. As silent as a pair of mice, the two of them crept along the dark hallway and into the kitchen. Morgan noticed Batman's gaze linger at several childhood photos and she could only interpret it as curiosity, even though he didn't seem to register this himself.

Once she closed the door behind them and got the first gust of wind in her face, she shivered slightly – it was colder than she'd anticipated. A strong wind was blowing, but honestly, when _wasn't_ a strong wind blowing in Gotham?

"Let's go," Batman whispered, slithering along shadows, Morgan right on his heels. Hopefully, he had brought the Batmobile with him. She didn't feel much like walking in this weather. Morgan could feel the heaviness in her limbs from the deep sleep she'd been in only a few minutes ago. She lightly slapped her cheeks. At least this cold wind helped clear her mind.

They reached the car and Morgan eagerly hopped inside, for once not complaining about the lack of space for her wings. Cramped wings were better than freezing thighs, after all. Really, her suit was supposed to withstand all kinds of weather, but she'd prioritized movement and sweat absorbing above warmth. She knew a lot of heroes had a thermos suit they used in the winter, but she was on a budget and usually a pair of long underwear did the trick.

She shook herself out of her suit related thoughts. The car was toasty warm and she could feel the warmth contributing to her drowsiness. In need of a distraction from her sleepiness, she turned to Batman. "So what's the plan when we arrive?"

"Riddler most likely isn't at the scene. We've gotta look for clues. It's probably another 'treasure hunt' he's set up. He tends to like those."

"I know."

"I know you know."

Short pause. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. Needed more conversation. "I still don't really like working with him."

"Obviously," he sounded sullen, "Nobody would like working with him. It's all we've got right now, though, so that's just how it has to be."

"Just promise me you won't be shutting off your critical thinking around him. He could be giving you information – but he could just as easily be planning your death."

"Morgan, I _know _Riddler is trouble. I'm not going to run head first into whatever he tells me to do." He didn't sound as annoyed with her worrying as she'd expected.

"Good. I trust your judgement." _Now. It hasn't always been the best these past few months._

She looked down at her clasped hands resting in her lap, remembering the usual roundness of her stomach, now hidden by a magical charm – because of the guy she was sitting next to.

_If everything goes according to plan tonight.. then I'll tell him. I'll definitely tell him. _

They arrived at the site of the fire. A team of firefighters were standing beside it, looking rather clueless.

The fire chief, a tall, bald man, approached the two heroes. "Batman, thank god you're here." He placed a hand on Batman's shoulder, oblivious to the side glance it earned him from the hero. "We've tried to extinguish the fire, but water seems to have no effect on it."

"Riddler must've used a special chemical to light it." Dick stepped forward and out of the chief's grasp. He approached the fire, his form illuminated by the bright flames.

"The flames have no color," Sparrow commented, noting that they seemed to burn entirely white. "He definitely used some sort of chemical."

"That's what we figured," the chief said, the sweat pouring down his face and making it glisten unhealthily. "We hoped you would be able to stop it. I'm Brody, by the way. Thomas Brody. Chief of the fire department." He stuck out a hand for _The Batman _to shake.

_..Right._

There was silence for a short moment, but their attention as quickly diverted. Morgan took a short step back in surprise at what happened next. Almost as soon as they neared the fire, it cut off. Like someone blowing out a candle, the bright, powerful flames flickered once before snuffing out completely. A short rise in surprised exclaims filled the air and then everyone fell into a dumbfounded silence. A foul, acrid smoke filled their noses.

"What the heck." Morgan mumbled, covering her lower face.

Dick pressed his lips together and shifted away from the chief standing much to close for any normal person. "Riddler must know we've arrived." He checked his wrist computer. "I'm not getting any toxin readings. The smoke is harmless, even if it smells terrible."

Sparrow stepped closer to the previously burning ground. She was almost afraid that it would spontaneously reignite if she stepped on the scorched patches. "There's a greeting card in the middle." She pointed at the unburned ground the top of the question mark had curved around.

"Don't step on the burn marks. We can't be sure what chemicals he used."

"I thought you said it wasn't dangerous."

"Yeah, the _smoke _wasn't dangerous."

Morgan blinked briefly at the decidedly sassy tone. "Are you sassing me right now? In the middle of a crime scene? In front of this fine gentleman?" She gestured to Brody, who was looking eagerly between the two heroes, looking every inch the fanboy. He looked like he didn't fully understand the relationship the two heroes shared, but was very interested in finding out.

"Just get the envelope." Batman bowed down and collected a sample of the scorched dirt for later research.

With a powerful swoosh of her wings, Morgan floated over the scorch marks and landed safely in the middle of the question mark. A green envelope lay neatly before her, the black question mark printed on the front removing any doubt as to who the culprit was.

Turning back, she saw Batman taking a sample of the burned asphalt. Flying back to his side, she handed him the envelope, figuring it should be him that opened it. She got the uncomfortable feeling that Riddler was somehow watching them, and she knew he didn't much like her involvement, for some reason or other. If she opened the letter, she might piss him off, and that would probably be a bad idea.

Dick used a batarang to efficiently slice open the top of the envelope. A small note fell out, containing one single sentence.

"_Only he who ignites man's eternal flame may extinguish it," _He read aloud.

"This is some Prometheus shit," Morgan took the piece of paper from him and turned it over, but there was nothing on the other side.

"I think I might know what it means." Dick said with haste. "Let's go. I trust you have the rest covered here?" He turned to the chief with his last remark.

The man nodded eagerly, "Certainly. Don't worry, we'll clean up, now that the fire is out. Thanks for helping!"

"Good work. Thank you."

Chief Brody looked like he might shed a single, manly tear at the praise.

Batman powerwalked to the car, Sparrow running to keep up with him.

"So, do you actually know what it means or did you just want to escape your number one fan back there?" Morgan smirked at him once they'd entered the car and were speeding down the road once again. Even at half past three in the night, Gotham's roads weren't empty, but they were more lazily trafficked than usual.

"…"

"Hah!" she laughed heartily, "I _knew it!_"

"I _think _I know what it means." He admitted. "Remember when Gotham housed the Olympics some years back?"

"Vaguely."

"Well, Bruce endorsed it and of course he had some golden pass or something – I was twelve at the time so I don't remember exactly – anyway, we were there _a lot_ and I remember something like that phrase at the entrance of the Olympic city. It might be nothing, but it's a hunch."

"Alright. Lead the way."

To be honest, the Olympic city in Gotham was ugly as hell. A huge, bulky entrance in a weird green color with torch designs running along pillars that were supposed to look like an ancient Greek style but just weren't _quite _right_._

Morgan scrunched her nose at the doors as they sneaked past them, searching for a way in.

"For good guys, we sure do break into a lot of places." She mussed. Dick ignored her. Trailing her eyes along the building, she casually pointed out. "There's your phrase."

Dick followed her eyes. Gold lettering wound across the grey brick, spelling out the exact sentence they'd found in Riddler's letter.

"So this is definitely the right place." He almost sounded smug. "Be on your guard – this means Riddler has something prepared."

"The Olympic city is _huge," _Morgan sighed, studying a detailed map posted beside the huge building they were currently trying to break into. "We might have to search all night." Batman shot her a look. "_Not _that I'm complaining, of course," she held up her hands in surrender.

"That sounded like complaining, in my opinion."

"Just get us inside already."

"Here," he said once they rounded a corner, spotting a maintenance entrance. Picking the lock with ease, the two of them snuck inside the complete darkness.

"This feels too easy," Morgan felt faint dread coiling in her stomach as they wound their way through the staff rooms and into the guest hall. "He's the Riddler, surely there's some bigger mystery."

"I know. It's a trap." Dick said, sounding far too casual for such a remark. He pulled up his wrist computer, making it scan the building for other living beings.

With indignation, Morgan shot him a glare. "And I guess the plan is to spring the trap?"

"Exactly."

"Great." She fell a few steps behind him, "You're an idiot."

He halted and turned to give her a fierce glare. She fought through her initial instinct to just give him a scowl in return and instead mumbled a sorry before walking on. Obviously, she'd reached the top of his banter-meter. Even so, his willingness to intentionally spring a trap, just for potential answers, worried her.

They walked on in silence for some time, past potted plastic plants and empty tanks that had once contained fish.

After passing a corridor that split in two, a thought occurred to Morgan. "We should split up."

"No." Came his immediate reply.

"Why not? If this is a trap, shouldn't we let _one _person spring it and then the other can bail them out?"

"Because staying together is much safer. I know we've got an agreement with Riddler, but frankly I don't trust him to not hurt you if he gets the chance – it's obvious that he doesn't like that you're a part of this. I know he won't try to kill me – right now at least – but I can't be sure he won't try to kill you."

She kept quiet for a moment, realizing this was the closest to admitting protectiveness as she was going to get. Annoyance and a warmed heart fought each other and she considered carefully how to respond. "It's not that I don't appreciate you trying to keep me safe, but I can take care of myself. We both know that, or I wouldn't be here."

"That's just it," he said with resignation, stopping just as they entered a café area. A bar was shoved against one wall, a dead neon sign simply spelling 'coffee' hanging above it. Most chairs and tables had been stacked at the side of the room, but a few were still scattered about, like whoever had been charged with clearing the place had been too lazy to finish the job. "You're totally rusty right now. You've been rusty since coming back to Gotham."

"Just because I'm rusty doesn't mean I'm useless," she defended, "I just need to get back into the swing of things."

Except that's not what she needed, because she was pregnant and shouldn't even be fighting anyway.

"You need to be trained." He was starting to sound frustrated, grasping the back of a nearby chair so hard that the plastic creaked. "That's what we'd been doing, remember? Before you moved out of the manor."

Right. She recalled the one lesson he'd given her before she'd collapsed from influenza. This had led to her finding out she was pregnant and moving out, and that had been the end of those training lessons.

"Are you saying you want to keep training me?" she couldn't help but wonder.

"I'm saying I may very well _have _to if you want to keep fighting and not dying."

"Not dying _is _a big priority of mine." She offered him a small smirk, but his blank expression told her he wasn't amused. "Alright, fine, train me all you want. I guess I could use it."

_Uh, no, you can't use it, you idiot, you're quitting heroing for the foreseeable future, what do you need training for?_

_It's easier to just agree with him now and then later, when I tell him the truth, he'll understand why I can't train. _

_That just means you'll have to actually tell him, dumbass. _

_Shut up._

"Good." He started walking again like no words had just been exchanged. "My computer picked up a lifeform close by. Let's go."

So the Riddler _was _in the building? Morgan felt adrenalin spark in her chest, spreading through her limbs.

Not two minutes had passed by before they entered a huge arena, one that had been used by runners. A cold draft blew through the roofless space, pulling at the curls framing Morgan's face. At the very center of the arena stood a single chair. It wouldn't have been so suspicious, if the chair hadn't been painted a bright green and standing in a bright spotlight.

"Ok, so, a chair. Do we approach?"

"This is so obviously a trap that I feel like it might _not _be the trap." Dick said with a small groan. "I guess we approach."

They walked cautiously towards the offending chair, both feeling a tad silly at their paranoia. Nothing happened, and to make matters worse, right as they reached the chair it started raining heavily.

_Great._

There was the sound of what they initially thought was booming thunder. Then, the ground shook and it quickly became apparent that that wasn't the case. As if timed to the last millisecond, cracks started to appear in the dirt around them at the same time as fire sparked to life at the edge of the arena, swiftly running in a circle around them, surrounding the two heroes.

Above, with a great whirring sound, the retractable roof sprung to life, cutting off the rain as it started to close with surprising speed. They were about to be trapped.

Morgan stepped closer to Dick as the ground beneath them started to crumble. The second they lost their footing, she grasped his arm and beat her wings furiously to keep them both airborne.

"God, you're heavy," she groaned as she wrapped her arms around his chest, his hands coming up to grasp onto her forearms. A bat-ear was poking her cheek painfully. They watched as the entire arena crumbled into a fiery pit, the walls cracking and the roof rumbling as if the whole construction would fall apart at any moment. The arena floor was reduced to a hole, mounts of dirt and cement spread throughout.

"There's a tunnel down there!" Batman shouted over the roar of fire and destruction, pointing at a concrete opening that had revealed itself as the ground collapsed. It stood out as the only untouched piece of construction below.

Above, the glass roof gave one last ominous creak before it started to shatter, sharp shards raining towards them. Morgan instantly dived for the tunnel, hoping to evade the lethal glass and inwardly praying that the underground tunnel wasn't a dead-end that would trap them, if the entrance was blocked.

Sharp pain exploded in her left wing once they were only fifteen feet above ground and she cried out, losing velocity. Fighting through the agony, she spread her wings, gliding for as long as she could before they crash-landed in a pile of scorched dirt. The two heroes scrambled to their feet and dashed the last few feet towards the tunnel as bullets of glass rained around them. The pain in her wing was so distracting that Morgan lost her footing for a split second and fell onto her knees.

Dick, in a split second decision, ran and leapt onto her, pulling her to him with a firm arm around her waist. He held his cape above their heads, resting his head against her temple. Soon, a wall of glass hit them and Morgan heard him grunt at the force of it. But his cape was sturdy and built to withstand things much tougher than glass. Morgan folded her wings around her body as tightly as she could to keep them inside the safe zone his cape provided.

The onslaught lasted for not even half a minute and then everything was silent. The rain, no longer hindered by the glass roof, fell freely onto the two heroes in heavy drops. They didn't move for several seconds, Dick's breath fanning across Morgan's neck. Her left wing was pulsing with pain. Her back was pressed so firmly against his chest that she could feel his heartbeat, and she was relieved to discover that his was elated too.

Slowly, like a flower unfolding at the first sight of dawn, the two figures came to life, Dick flinging the cape back and launching a wave of glass to the ground with the movement. Morgan poked her head out from under the crook of his arm, placing a hand against the ground to push her into a standing position.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her body momentarily trembling at the explosion of activity they'd just been caught in.

"You're bleeding." Dick observed, grabbing hold of her wing and holding it up to reveal a decently sized shard of glass embedded in the appendix, towards the middle. Morgan shuddered at the sight. "Let me anesthetize the area and I'll pull it out."

"Do it quick, please." She bit into her bottom lip.

"We should move to safety first. This needs proper treatment." He sounded grim, his mouth pulled into a thin line.

"So this is the end of tonight's mystery?" Morgan sighed with mixed relief and disappointment. "Can't you just give it temporary treatment and we can keep going? We _know _Riddler is here."

"Come on," he motioned towards the tunnel they'd been heading to. "I'll have a look once we're out of the rain. Besides, whatever human my computer picked up is long gone by now."

After a minute of inspection, he concluded that they'd need to go back to the Batcave so he could treat it properly.

"Dang it." Morgan sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We've got a new clue."

"We do?" She frowned.

"There," Dick pointed towards a green enveloped resting innocently on the ground further inside the tunnel. "I guess that's what we were here for."

"Huh," she shrugged, ignoring the stinging in her wing that the movement resulted in. "I hadn't even noticed that."

"Let's go." He stood and offered her a hand.

"Did Riddler seriously blow up a stadium just to give us an envelope?" She looked around at the carnage, noting that the arena was still completely surrounded by fire. In the distance, she could hear the wailing sirens of firetrucks and police cars. Smoke teased her sense of smell and stung in her eyes.

"This is the same kind of fire that we encountered before. The flames are white. Which means the fire department won't be able to snuff it out," Batman said. "And we can't fly over it, with your wing like this."

"So we're trapped?"

"No.. I think we're supposed to follow the tunnel. That must be why a clue was placed there. I'll have to treat your wound first, though."

Morgan winced. As long as they'd been talking, she'd been sort of able to ignore the pain, or at least focus on something else, but with the promise of Dick touching the glass shard, it seemed her wing gave an extra painful thud. "Alright. Make it quick."

She closed her eyes and clenched her hands, preparing herself for the pain that was sure to come. There was a small prick in her wing by the hurt area, and then the pain rapidly resided. She frowned and opened her eyes. "That wasn't so bad?"

"I just anesthetized it. I'm pulling out the glass now."

The pain was there as he slowly removed the offending object, but it was much duller than it should have been. Like an old bruise getting poked at. He let the shard fall to the ground and it shattered into many pieces.

"Almost done." Dick promised as he applied a quick bandage to halt the bleeding for now. "There."

"Thanks." Morgan offered him a small smile and tested her wings with a few small beats before looking towards the tunnel they'd have to go through. "Let's go."

Dick picked up the green envelope and looked back at the fire surrounding the area. "Hopefully the Riddler will extinguish the fire after we go through here. It must've been a way to make sure we only had one way to go."

"I just hope it doesn't lead into a sewer. We always end up in sewers.."

"Well, let's find out."

* * *

The tunnel, thankfully, didn't lead into a sewer. They only had to crawl through the underground passage, which was full of wires, for a few minutes before a ladder greeted them. Batman went first, pushing open a round trapdoor. Upstairs, they found a single small space which resembled a maintenance closet more than an actual room. There was only one door out of there.

"I swear this is some kind of trap. We only have one way to go." Morgan sighed.

He turned to her with a tiny smirk on his lips, and Morgan's heart exploded in her chest. She couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled at her. It probably hadn't been once since she came back. This _had _to be progress. "Well, we agreed to spring the trap."

They approached the door and halted. Dick paled a hand on the handle and looked at her, mouthing 'are you ready?'. Morgan nodded, instinctively clenching her hands as she dug into her telekinesis, preparing herself for whatever lay at the other side.

Quick as lightning, Dick took a step back and flung the door open, a batarang poised in his other hand. Morgan crouched and raised her hands, fingers spread out and ready.

A dark entrance hall greeted them. An empty fountain stood in the middle of the room, a pair of glass doors leading outside.

The two heroes shared a look before relaxing their stances and walking into the hall. Above the glass doors were a huge, black wall painting. Morgan recognized the style as a copy of the one on ancient Greek vases. A huge man was standing in full armor, a shield and spear in his hands. A helmet protected his head, adorned with feathers from the front to the back of the neck. Around him, a fierce battle was raging. The wall painting caught her attention because she remembered their encounter with Poison Ivy. They'd been led to her by finding a Greek statue of Persephone, a goddess that shared similar traits with the plant enthusiast. Perhaps this was much the same.

"We can get out this way." Dick was already heading for the glass doors, seemingly paying no mind to the painting right above the doors.

Morgan followed after him. She could feel the anesthetic starting to lose its effect – he must've only given her a small doze – and the dull throbbing in her wing started to develop an edge.

Once they reached the outside, it didn't take them long to find the main entrance to the Olympic city – they hadn't actually strayed that long from it, it turned out.

She breathed a sigh of relief once they reached the Batmobile. "Shouldn't we make sure the fire is put out?"

"It's already been put out." He pointed towards the collapsed building they'd been in a moment ago. "No smoke and no readings on my computer. I guess he just wanted to make sure we used that exact entrance. Now we just need to figure out why."

Morgan didn't argue. Chancing a look on the batmobile's clock, she realized with a sigh that it was well past four am.

They drove towards the Wayne Manor in silence for a few minutes before Dick broke it.

"I'll have a look at that wing when we reach the cave and then.. It's really late, so you can borrow your old room, if you want. We'll go over the new clues we found tomorrow."

"Okay." She agreed, too tired and sore to argue with him. She didn't mind using her old room for a single night.

* * *

Morgan was out of bed and had passed the threshold of the connecting bathroom before she was even fully awake. It was practically second nature by now, and she'd actually found herself waking up _as_ she was bent over the toilet, coughing up last night's meal, several times by now. She was just relieved that she'd managed to wake up while running to the bathroom this time. Waking up mid-barf was both freaky and unpleasant.

She flung open the toilet and released the leftovers of the spaghetti Bolognese she'd had for dinner only hours ago into the water below, hating how absolutely normal this felt by now. She was tired of nausea and throwing up. The only comfort was that the sickness wouldn't last forever. Coughing wetly a few times, she finished up her less than charming nightly routine. Morgan groaned loudly to herself as she stayed on the floor for a moment, brushing curls out of her sweaty face. Suddenly, the bathroom was unbearably hot and her body felt all-together off-balance. Rising on her slightly shaky legs, she observed herself in the mirror of the brightly – too brightly for this time of night – lit bathroom. Her skin was too pale to look healthy. Her eyes had dark bruises underneath them, which was the only thing to distract from how wet and bloodshot the grey orbs were. Her mouth curled in distaste, both at the lingering taste or spaghetti combined with stomach fluids, and at the sight of her appearance.

Pulling away from the mirror, she found that, despite her nausea, she felt compelled to go for a short walk. But it was in the middle of the night and she felt unsteady on her shaky legs.

Remembering that she'd read somewhere that plain, salted crackers were supposed to help against nausea, Morgan decided to go on that short walk after all. But she wouldn't go further than the kitchen. She knew Alfred made it a habit to store snacks like plain crackers, and she hoped he hadn't stopped in the past month. Walking down all the stairs and halls of the Manor to reach the kitchen was a decent walk in itself. Perhaps she'd open a window down there to get a bit of the fresh, cool air that she so craved.

Seriously, Morgan had lived in a literal mountain once, and yet the _Wayne Manor_ was what made her feel stuffy. She'd probably just gotten more sensitive because of her condition.

Not bothering with any shoes or socks, despite knowing that the marble floors down in the main hall got cold during the night, she slipped silently out of her room and snapped the door shut with a muted _click_ behind her, all too aware that Dick was sleeping in a room only a few doors away and she did _not_ want to wake him up. She'd like to avoid confronting him or Damian or Tim – or just anyone really – in the middle of the night when she felt so thoroughly off balance. Neither Tim nor Damian even knew she was here, so a confrontation would also mean an explanation, and, honestly, she couldn't be bothered.

The pajama bottoms brushed against the red rug underneath her bare feet and she pulled the pants further up over her stomach, stuffing her black tank top into the waistband, in an attempt to get rid of the extra inches.

The Manor really did get cold at night, she thought as she wrapped her arms around her body to stave off the goose bumps. It was strange how she'd felt too hot in the bathroom and now she was suddenly shivering. Maybe it wasn't as much about the cool temperature as it was about the long, dark halls and the creaky floor and the sound of the wind whistling outside as it found small nooks and crannies in the outer walls of the huge, old house to create the peculiar sound.

Morgan shook her head, dispelling the thought from her mind. She was a superhero. She could take care of herself. She'd faced down so many dangerous things. A silent and dark hallway in a former – however temporary – home, shouldn't – _wouldn't_ – scare her.

She reached the grand staircase at last and let her fingers find the smooth marble of the railing, sliding along it as she walked soundlessly down the stairs.

As she turned a corner and found the kitchen door, she frowned in surprise and confusion.

The kitchen light was on.

Morgan knew Alfred to be a ridiculously thorough butler and housekeeper. Lights simply weren't left _on_ once everyone had gone to bed. He made sure of that sort of stuff. But the man _was_ getting older, she reminded herself. He was allowed to make mistakes.

It didn't even occur to her, _not even once_, when she entered the kitchen, blinking blearily as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light, that they might've been on because there was someone in the room.

She realized her mistake the moment her eyes adjusted to the light and she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. Acting on pure instinct, she jumped back in fright and held a protective hand over her stomach, her eyes finding the owner of the weapon.

He was tall, taller than Dick even, and very broad shouldered, with a mop of black hair hanging in his prickly blue eyes, which were gazing at her evenly. For a short moment, Morgan thought he looked a lot like Dick, except bulkier and more dangerous. The white tuft mingling with his otherwise black bangs caught her attention as his gruff voice rang out between them.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked. She didn't miss the way his eyes traced her wings. She was wearing neither of her charms. Like an _idiot._

Stupidly, she felt her stubborn streak flare up. She met his eyes evenly and took in a deep breath, drawing herself to stand just slightly taller despite realizing that her height would always be extremely underwhelming next to this mountain of a guy.

"You're the one breaking into my friends' home in the middle of the night; I should be asking _you_ that question." She replied.

He arched a dark eyebrow at her before giving a slight flick of his gun as if to remind her that _he _was the one with the weapon.

She sighed as she dearly wished that her powers were more effective against bullets. Her stomach curled with worry while she studied the guy's posture briefly. Morgan got the feeling that he wouldn't hesitate to fire that gun if she tried anything, and that he wasn't the kind of guy that missed either. He held it with the sort of confidence only years of constant use could create.

"I'm Morgan." She eventually said when she realized that it was all she could do, really. "A friend of Dick's."

His eyes flickered to her stomach briefly, clearly remembering the way she'd protected it before, and Morgan hated the knowing glint in those orbs as they met hers again. Already a small baby bump was showing, made obvious by the tight tank-top she was wearing.

"'_Friend'_." He repeated doubtfully and not without a trace of humor as he finally relaxed his stance and stopped pointing that damn gun at her. He seemed to slump slightly where he stood, like one of the strings keeping him standing had been cut, and Morgan noticed for the first time that a small pool of blood was gathering beneath his feet, originating from his left bicep.

As she took in his attire – brown leather jacket over a suit that looked a lot like Batman's, only with a red square-ish bat symbol on the chest – and the red helmet she saw lying on the table, the puzzle pieces finally fell into place. "You're-"

"Red Hood." He interrupted her, giving a mock-nod of his head as he introduced himself.

"-Jason." She finished at the same time.

He went rigid at the mention of his real name and his eyes hardened, the gun in his hand pointed at her face again. She hadn't meant for the name to slip out, but it did. _Stupid._

"I'm Sparrow." She quickly introduced herself, giving up her superhero identity to try to make up for the fact that she knew something she apparently wasn't allowed to know. "I work with the Batman."

"And screw him too, apparently." He gruffly said as he lowered his gun again and turned his back to her, clearly not finding her to be much of a threat.

Morgan frowned at him but kept quiet as the guy resumed what he'd been doing before she'd interrupted him. He was digging through the cupboards, cursing fluently under his breath.

The winged girl shifted on her feet for a short moment as she considered the situation. There was a vigilante in the kitchen, looking through the drawers and cupboards. He had a gun and he seemed grumpy and definitely hurt. He was also the only thing stopping her from getting her crackers and a glass of water. And she really wanted those crackers.

"If you're looking for the medical kit, Alfred moved it to the cupboard by the fridge." She helpfully offered.

He paused his work and sighed out harshly as he stood up to his full height again.

"You're still here?" He asked in what sounded a lot like an annoyed big-brother voice, despite the fact that he must've been a couple of years younger than her. Maybe about the age Dick had been when she'd first met him.

"I came to get something." She informed him as she moved towards the shelf where she knew Alfred kept the snacks, feeling oddly at ease around the guy. He obviously didn't consider her a threat, so he wouldn't attack. As long as she didn't annoy him, and didn't let him think she was scared, she was pretty sure she'd be fine. "And the, admittedly, unexpected appearance of a vigilante in the kitchen isn't gonna stop that."

He snorted as if her gal amused him, but moved towards the shelf she'd suggested, pulling out the medical kit and slapping it, along with a large bottle of jack, on the island in the middle of the kitchen. He shrugged out of his leather jacket just as Morgan found her salted crackers and poured herself a large glass of water, sitting down a few seats from the bleeding Red Hood.

He started working his way out of his black suit next, grunting in pain every so often. Out of a lack of anything better to do, Morgan watched him silently undress his upper body, revealing scar-riddled skin on a well-muscled torso.

"You're staring." He sneered. "See something you like?"

Morgan instinctively snorted on a cracker and rolled her eyes. "Please, I'm around well-muscled guys twenty-four-seven, the sight has somewhat lost its splendor." In truth, she hadn't even been staring at his bare chest but rather the jagged, bleeding cut on his large bicep. "Looks painful." She couldn't help commenting.

He offered her a 'you think?' sort of look before refocusing on the task at hand. He used his teeth to pull off the cork of the bottle and poured some of the golden liquid onto the wound, hissing involuntarily under his breath. He frowned darkly at the sight of the cut, his blood mingling with the liquid as it traveled down his arm and onto the floor, creating a small, red puddle.

"You're gonna need stitches." Morgan observed.

"I can fucking see that for myself." He nastily responded, obviously wishing the short blonde would just _disappear_.

Morgan, however, didn't move from her spot as she watched him fumble around for a few minutes, his cursing growing progressively louder when he remained unsuccessful in threading the needle.

"You should let me do it." Morgan eventually said after he'd let out a particularly loud growl. She wasn't sure what had compelled her to offer. He'd broken into the house in the middle of the night. He'd been rude and had pointed a gun at her. He _knew_ about her condition. She'd heard a lot about the Red Hood, heard about how ruthless he could be and how he wasn't afraid to kill. Everything about the guy should make Morgan want to either kick his ass or run far away from his presence.

And yet she was offering to stitch him up instead.

He looked shocked at her for a moment as if the very same thoughts that she'd just had also ran through his mind. Most likely, he was wondering why she hadn't alerted Dick or someone else that they had an intruder on the property. Morgan was truly wondering the same thing herself. It wasn't a secret that Batman wanted very much to get hold of the Red Hood and have, at the very least, a stern chat with the guy. And this was a very nice opportunity to actually apprehend him. So why was she helping him instead?

Maybe it was because he was wounded and had looked so very young and damaged as he'd tried to thread that needle without success. The guy was probably only nineteen and he'd already been through more shit than some people did in their whole life. He probably deserved to catch a break.

"Why would I want your help?" He returned with hostility lacing his tone. It didn't quite hide his curiosity, though.

Morgan shrugged. "Because you only have one useful arm and you won't be able to get that stitching done by yourself. If you want to bleed out, go right ahead, but don't say I didn't offer."

He regarded her for a long moment before sighing harshly and rolling his eyes. "Dick sure knows how to pick 'em."

She took this as permission to approach. Morgan got up from her seat and sat in the chair next to him, pulling the needle from his large fingers.

"If you try anything stupid, I won't hesitate to shoot you." He warned her halfheartedly.

Morgan nodded as she threaded the needle. "I don't doubt it." She wasn't planning on trying anything stupid, so the threat didn't faze her much.

She moved the needle into position over his pale skin, trying to ignore the nauseating smell of blood that wafted off him. Damn overly sensitive sense of smell.

"This might hurt." She warned as she pierced his skin with the needle.

Jason hissed in a deep breath as he obviously did his best to keep the pain from showing on his face. He couldn't stop the grimace entirely, however, and he brought the flask of alcohol to his lips and took a large gulp to hide it.

Morgan had stitched up wounds several times before so she knew what she was doing, but she still found the sensation of forcing the needle through somebody else's flesh entirely unpleasant.

"Why'd you even come here?" Morgan wondered out loud. "I can understand the need to take care of a wound, but isn't breaking into the manor more trouble than it's worth?"

"I ran out of medical supplies. The manor was close by." He shortly responded behind gritted teeth, his face a hard grimace. Part of Morgan suspected it had just as much to do with pure spite. That he'd broken into the manor because _why not. _Silence spread between them as Morgan kept stitching closed his wound, glad that the bleeding at the very least had stopped some time ago.

"So," Jason suddenly spoke up in a strained voice, probably trying to start up conversation to distract himself from the pain. "Does he know?"

It was Morgan's turn to grimace, her eyes flickering briefly from her handiwork to his face, dearly wishing he would've chosen another subject.

"No. And you won't tell him." She answered softly.

"What makes you think that?" He responded in a voice that let her know he'd totally tell on her simply because she'd told him not to.

But Morgan didn't worry. She'd figured him out already. In some ways he was a lot like her, actually. Spiting somebody simply for the heck of it was something she suspected he'd enjoy a lot. She would do that too herself, either for the heck of it or simply out of stubbornness.

"Because once he _does_ find out, he'll be pissed that you knew before him and _didn't_ tell him, and something tells me that you'd absolutely love that."

A small smile – the first she'd seen on his face since she'd walked into the kitchen less than half an hour ago – tugged at his lips and he let out a chuckle that rumbled deeply in his chest. "Touché."

Morgan pulled back a moment later, using the scissors from the medical kit to cut the needle loose. "All done." She announced, feeling proud of the tight, neat stitches adorning his left bicep.

He looked at her work himself and nodded slightly, which was probably the only kind of approval she'd get out of him.

Instead of speaking, he took another large gulp straight from the flask. Morgan walked to her original chair across the island and reached for another cracker, munching silently on it and wondering what they were supposed to do now. Obviously, she felt reluctant to leave when he was still in the kitchen. As nicely as they'd been treating each other – which, admittedly, hadn't actually been that nice – she really couldn't ignore that he was the Red Hood and that he was a danger to her family and friends.

He removed the bottle from his lips with a satisfied sigh and offered the flask to her.

Morgan shook her head with a wry sort of smile pulling at her lips. "I'm not supposed to drink, remember?" She reminded him, marveling at how easy it was to talk about _it_ with him because he'd found out.

"Suit yourself." He shrugged like he didn't give a shit and took another large gulp. He got out of his seat afterwards, only wincing slightly as he pulled the upper part of his suit on again, using only one arm. He was about to exit out of the window he'd entered from originally when Morgan spoke up.

"You're gonna have to clean that up before you go." She told him, pointing at the blood on the floor. "Unless you want somebody figuring out there's been an intruder in the house and then tightening the security to make sure you can't do it again."

He smirked at her before slipping his helmet over his face. "I was trained by Batman. I'd find another way in." He simply responded before disappearing into the night, leaving Morgan to clean up his mess.

"Ass." She mumbled under her breath as she fished a mop, bucket and towels out of the supply closet to mop up the floor. She didn't want to clean up his blood, but she also didn't want anyone asking awkward questions the next morning.

She was back in her bed at six am, only half an hour after leaving it. She supposed after a weird experience like that, she should be unable to fall asleep, but due to a specific _someone_ waking her up at three am, she was so exhausted that sleep came easily.

* * *

Yoooooo

im so so sorry omg literally nothing can excuse this absence. I will try to do better in the future! I had hoped to get this out in december, but then i got the new version of Word and that somehow deleted the document i had with the story? I only had some older versions.

also i was feeling really annoyed with the story. Like it wasn't shaping up how i had wanted it. For some reason i've been too afriad of hitting the real meat of the story, so i've been spending too much time on unimportant side stuff, which bored me. Well, NO MORE. we're jumping into the exciting stuff form now on. All the drama.

the bright side is that this is a really long chapter? The longest i've ever posted.

Introduction of a new character! Tbh I plan to include jason in the story, i'm just not entirely sure just how yet. I have some ideas, but it largely depends on where the story is headed.

Fun fact: The scene with Jason is the very first i ever wrote for this story, so it's been staring at me in my document for over a year now, waiting for its turn to shine. Finally, baby, finally.


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